A Long Fall From Grace
by LockedAndLokied
Summary: Tim accidentally bonded with a human being, out of pure anger and frustration. Problem is, Tim doesn't really like humans. The human doesn't really like anything or anyone, regardless of species (unless you're a cat, or a dog, or a cow). And it's all Dick's fault really, but no one says anything to avoid invoking the wrath of Jason. *Sequel to Sugar, Spice, But Not At All Nice


CHAPTER 1

"Cereal, cereal," Tim muttered under his breath. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch, what does that look like?" Tim walked from aisle to aisle in the large supermarket, looking for Dick's favorite cereal.

It was the day of Dick's awakening, and Jason had wanted to get some comfort foods for Dick, but he also didn't want to leave Dick's side, so Jason set Tim to run his errands for him. There was a long list tucked in Tim's coat pocket, but he had memorized the entire thing already.

Tim had never been shopping before, and he had very limited knowledge on how humans used money. Usually, when he wanted something, he could just manifest it. But with human foods that were made up of more chemicals than actual food, Tim was completely lost.

So when he finally reached the cereal aisle, Tim's basket was full of other snacks that had been on Jason's list. Powdered donuts, chips, soda, iced tea, chocolate bars, a large bag of marshmallows, and cereal. A lot of cereal. And the one called Cinnamon Toast Crunch had been underlined three times.

After searching high and low, Tim finally found it. There was one box left, sitting half-hidden behind a box of Cheerios. Smiling in relief, Tim reached down to grab it…

And at the same time, someone else did, too.

Another pair of hands closed down on the box and Tim looked up to see a tall man glaring down at him.

"I got it first," the man said, his green eyes flashing dangerously.

Tim sighed, standing but not letting go of the box. "You don't understand. I _need_ this box," he said, thinking of Jason's disappointment if he didn't bring Dick's favorite cereal, which had been underlined _three times_ for emphasis.

"Tt," the man scoffed. "I didn't ask you. I got the box first, so you will let go of it."

Tim narrowed his eyes at the man. Tim rarely had contact with any humans for one reason. They were completely unreasonable and stupidly stubborn. Tim never really understood Jason's fascination with humankind, though he had to admit, Dick was pretty okay for a human.

"I won't repeat myself," Tim said warningly. "Let go of the box."

The man glared harder, staring down at Tim. "Are you threatening me?"

"What if I am?" Tim squared his shoulders, certain he could easily hurt the man, even with his height disadvantage.

The two glared at each other, neither making the first move.

Just then, gunshots rang out through the store, and many screams followed. Both Tim and the man turned towards the source of the sound. Someone was robbing the supermarket.

"I'm not finished with you," the man said, pointing at Tim before running off in the direction of the gunshots.

Tim had nearly dropped the box in surprise. The man actually believed that he could take down someone with a gun. Tim frowned. While Tim had never been too fond of humankind, he didn't believe in unnecessary deaths. So he set down the basket of food, placing the box of cereal into the basket before setting off after the man with the green eyes.

Most people were running out of the store, grabbing their children, clutching their wallets and purses close to themselves. Associates were hiding under the counters, trembling in fear. Tim watched as the green-eyed man efficiently disarmed the masked robber, delivering a few punches, and brought the man to the ground quickly.

The man whispered something in the man's ear, bound him up in duct-tape, and pushed the robber to the floor viciously. The whole time, Tim stood there watching, stupidly.

The man with green eyes turned back around and saw Tim looking at him. "What?" he asked as he walked back over. "Someone had to do something."

"So what, your hero complex kicked in?" Tim asked sarcastically.

"Tt. At least I didn't stand there uselessly, gaping. Where you waiting to catch bullets in your mouth? Sorry I couldn't indulge you," the man said, striding back towards the cereal aisle. "However, as compensation, I will be taking that last box of cereal."

Tim grabbed the man's wrist, stopping him. The man's eyes widened and then narrowed, obviously surprised at Tim's strength.

"I can't let you take that. You humans think you can act so selfishly all the time," Tim said, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be human, too.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Tt, whatever that means." The man started to pull his wrist from Tim's grip, but Tim didn't let go. The man swung his other hand around to punch Tim, but Tim grabbed his hand out of midair. "What is your problem, psycho?" He snarled.

Tim didn't relent. "I did warn you."

The man kicked, sweeping Tim's legs from underneath him. Tim crashed to the ground, but he grabbed the man's shoulder and brought him down along with him. They rolled on the ground, scratching and kicking, all the while exchanging scathing words.

"Well, look at you," the man said in a strained voice as he pushed Tim off of him. "Martial arts, but no intent to help others."

Tim growled. "I don't need you to tell me what to do. You're just puny and weak, just how I _don't_ like them!"

The man threw Tim off and scrambled to his feet, Tim also doing the same.

"I'm puny and weak? Have you seen yourself? You're practically a prepubescent child with an ego larger than the entirety of Gotham City."

Snarling, Tim tackled the man, using a bit more strength than he intended to and set them both crashing down into the shelf behind them, knocking it over completely. Food came crashing down around them and both Tim and the green-eyed man went tumbling to the ground again. Broken glass cut into their skin as they rolled around.

That's when it all went wrong. Sometime during the fight, Tim had cut his lip wide open, and before it could heal itself, Tim had landed on top of the man again, his forehead crashing into the man's nose, and he heard him yell in pain. Tim lifted his head up, feeling a bit woozy, and saw that the man's nose was bleeding profusely now. And as the shelf crashed down on top of them, Tim ducked his head down as an instinct.

It all happened so fast, and Tim didn't know how. There must have been some sort of mixing of blood and then a tugging in his chest that quickly grew to extremely painful measures. All of a sudden it was gone, and Tim knew.

He had accidentally bonded with the human.

Completely dazed and panicking, Tim hadn't moved. The man underneath him had been knocked out by the shelf, but Tim was panicking too hard.

A few minutes later, the shelf was lifted off of them, and Tim vaguely remembered being dragged outside and into an ambulance. The green-eyed man had been taken to a nearby hospital. Tim overheard paramedics talking about the man's injuries – a fractured rib, black eye, concussion, broken nose, sprained ankle, and a few bruises here and there.

But Tim didn't need to hear it to know. He could tell the exact rate of the man's heartbeat. He could tell exactly when the man inhaled and exhaled if he concentrated. He could feel where the man was most hurt, in the third rib on his left side. His rib had three fractures.

It was terrifying is what it was.

The paramedics checked him over and despite Tim insisting that he was perfectly fine, they wanted to send him to the hospital as well. They claimed that his heart rate was too high to be nothing. So Tim took the first chance he had and teleported.

He appeared in front of Jason's bedroom, as Jason and a new shadow demon, who he assumed was Dick, were about to enter.

"Jason," Tim said. He wasn't feeling good, and half of it was the man he was bonded to, and the other half was the pure shock and anxiety of it all. "Jason, I fucked up."

Jason morphed in front of his eyes, into his human form. He grabbed Tim, steading him, and Tim was thankful for his older brother. "What is it? Tim, what happened?"

Something was happening to his bonded mate. Some sort of chemical was injected into his body to make him sleep through the surgery for his ribs. Tim was also feeling the effects, and while most manmade things don't work on demons, it was working now because of the bond. Tim felt unsteady. "I accidentally bonded with a human," he managed before darkness washed over him and he fell forward into Jason's arms.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

Tim opened his eyes, groaning softly. His back hurt.

He sat up and looked around. He was in the dining room, lying on the table. Jason was sitting at the head of the table, by Tim's feet. Jason's hands were clasped tightly, and he was frowning, but less at Tim and more in disappointment in general.

Dick was standing behind him, looking worried.

"Jay?" Tim croaked.

"Tim." Jason said flatly. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes before opening them again, anger seemingly flooding his expressions. "Can you please tell what the _fuck_ you were thinking? A human, Timothy! Did you know that you just shortened your lifespan to about eighty years? Maybe less? Not to mention, every time that idiot gets hurt, you lose consciousness! And I won't even _begin_ to mention how much of a hypocrite you are! Even better, wait until Bruce finds out! HA! You might only live until the end of this week."

"Go easy on him," Dick said softly.

"No!" Jason yelled. "He's supposed to be the responsible one! He's supposed to be the perfect son! He's not supposed to make mistakes like this! I literally sent you out to buy food. Can you really not handle that, Tim? Is it so hard? Maybe you aren't fit to rule hell. Honestly Tim, how did you even _manage_ to bond with someone like that? Bonding is a very delicate process, it's not something that just _happens_ accidentally!" Jason looked on the verge of breaking down. "I just- I can't even begin to fathom- GARGH!" He yelled, burying his head in his arms and stayed like that for a long time.

Tim felt a little guilty. "I'm sorry, Jason. I don't know how it happened, and I know that is irreversible, but… but there are ways to work this out."

Jason slowly raised his head. "Like what? Kidnap the human? We already did that once. What makes you think it will work again? Humans are cruel," Jason moaned. "They're stubborn and vindictive. They won't listen to us!"

Dick cleared his throat. "Maybe we should try anyway? I mean, we'll have to go see the person sooner or later."

Jason sighed heavily before standing up. "Okay. Let's go." He walked over and helped Tim up, steadying him on his feet. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"So where is this mystery person?" Dick asked. "Is it a guy or a girl? It's not some creepy old man, is it?" Dick shivered. "Or worse, a child. If it's a kid, can we wait a few years before kidnapping them? I'd feel guilty."

Jason rolled his eyes. "You're a horrible demon, Dickie."

"Well, you can't just kidnap some poor child! They have a family, and a life ahead of them. They should enjoy the sun and the rain and all the good things life has to offer."

"Like school?"

"Hey," Dick said. "I liked school."

"You and no one else," Jason retorted. He turned back to Tim. "Well?"

Tim concentrated. "He's at Gordon Memorial Hospital. Room 102. Still drugged out, but much better. He seems to have enhanced healing now, but obviously still slow."

"Ooh, a Gothamite?" Dick asked cheerfully. "Maybe I'll know him!"

* * *

"Holy shit, Dami?" Dick's jaw nearly hit the ground. The three demons had just teleported into room 102, all awaiting to see what Tim's new bond mate looked like. No one actually expected Dick to know him.

"You know him?" Jason asked dumbly.

Dick rushed to Damian's beside. "Fuck. Of course I do!"

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Should I be jealous?"

Dick touched Damian's forehead, checking over the sleeping man, his doctor instincts kicking in. "No," Dick said. "He's my best friend. But if you asked him, he'd deny it of course."

"Oh," Jason thought about it. "So if we kidnap him, it'll be okay?"

Dick glared at Jason. "Kidnapping is not okay, Jason. You can't kidnap him."

"What if we kidnapped him from the hospital. And took him somewhere a little more private?" Jason asked.

Dick frowned. "I don't know. Wouldn't people ask questions?"

Jason snorted. "Ah, the young and naïve. We have our ways to make sure no one asks questions."

Tim bit his lip. "Guys, I don't think this is a good idea. We… We didn't part on good terms."

"Wait, you did this?" Dick gaped. "Oh, poor Dami." Dick stroked Damian's hair. "Why would you beat up some poor, defenseless baby, Tim? He's so young…"

Tim's eyes bugged out. "He tried to hit me first! And what the hell, Dick? He's a fully grown man who also beat up a man armed with a gun."

Dick didn't look convinced.

"So are we kidnapping him or not?"

"Not," Tim said. "He's a jerk."

"He's your bond mate, Tim," Jason pointed out. "We need to talk to him."

"We can take him home," Dick said. "He has this penthouse in northern Gotham. It's pretty private."

Tim sighed heavily. "Fine. Let's make it quick."

Dick got to work immediately, scooping Damian up in his arms, struggling a little. "Damn, he's heavy," Dick grunted, nearly losing his grip on the man.

"You have demon strength, Dick. Use it," Jason told him.

Dick gave him an annoyed look, but seemed to find carrying Damian easier after that. They all held on to Dick as he teleported.

And ended up in Damian's bathroom. While large, four people is still a tight fit.

"You really need to get a hang of your teleportation skills quickly," Jason said offhandedly.

Dick pouted. "I think I'm doing okay! Sure, I was a room off, but I just got these powers an hour ago!"

Tim smirked mockingly. "Go easy on him."

Dick huffed, walking out of the bathroom and depositing Damian on his bed. "So how does the whole demon healing thing work? Do I just…?" He put his hands on Damian's forehead and chest and looked at the other two questioningly.

Jason just shrugged.

"C'mon guys. You seriously can't expect me to figure it all out myself!"

"We figured it all out ourselves."

"You've had what, several thousand years of practice?"

Tim shook his head, a small smile creeping on his face. "It's hard to explain. It's more subconscious than anything. Like you have to physically imagine the wounds stitching together and stuff."

"That doesn't sound sketchy at all," Dick said. He did as Tim suggested and concentrated, biting his lip, which Jason thought was really attractive.

A moment later, Damian sat up, gasping. His wide calculating eyes scanned the room, landing on Dick, then Jason, then Tim.

"What the fuck?"

Dick tackled him with a hug. "Oh, Dami! You're awake! Oh, you poor thing. Did Timmy beat you up to hard? It's okay. I'll make sure to talk to him later."

Damian pushed him off in disgust. "Get off me, Grayson. I don't want to catch your… affectious behavior." Then his eyes narrowed at Tim. "And _you._ What the fuck are you doing in my house? And how the fuck did you manage to break my rib?"

Tim scoffed. "If you hadn't attacked me, your rib wouldn't be broken."

"Hey, hey, guys. Let's talk this out, okay?" Dick held up his hands and sat down at the foot of Damian's bed. "Okay, I see some introductions are in order." He pointed to Jason, who was leaning casually against the opposite wall, clearly enjoying the confusion. "That's Jason. He's… my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Wow, didn't realize we reached that stage yet," Jason said cockily.

Dick gave him an annoyed look. "It was implied." Then he pointed to Tim. "And that's Tim. Jason's brother. You've already met him." Then he gestured to Damian. "And guys, this is Damian. My best friend and my shoulder to cry on."

"If you ever cry on my, I _will_ break your nose, Grayson."

Jason glared at Damian, who glared right back.

Dick cleared his throat nervously. "And um, they're demons." He said quickly.

Damian turned to him slowly, his eyes challenging Dick. "Sorry?"

Dick coughed again. "Demons. Y'know? I mentioned the before, haven't I?"

Damian sighed. "Are you still not out of your there's-something-haunting-my-apartment phase?"

"You still don't believe me?" Dick asked.

"No, I still don't believe you. Unless one of these fools, I don't know, _hypothetically_ started levitating books or something, I don't believe you."

Just then, a book that had been lying face down by Damian's bedside lifted into the air. And chucked itself at Damian's head. While Damian dodged it, he also whipped around to look at Jason, who shrugged.

"You threatened Dick," he said nonchalantly.

Damian's eyebrows rose slowly. "Okay, they're demons. So why are you hanging out with them? And condoning such violent behavior?"

Dick laughed. "I'm not condoning violent behavior, silly. I'm- I'm-"

"What he's trying to say is that he betrayed his own species and joined the evil side," Jason said. "Your friend's no longer human, kiddo."

Damian glared at him with so much contempt that Tim started smoking.

"Well fuck," Tim said calmly. "Dick, calm your little beast down. I just got these clothes."

"Dami, hey, let's not lose our cool over this, okay?"

Damian turned on Dick. "You disappear for a month, ignoring all my calls and texts, I called your freaking school and they told me you haven't shown up for weeks, and you disappeared without a trace! I go to your apartment to find that nothing has change, no clothes missing, nothing disturbed, and a thick layer of dust covering nearly every surface. What was I supposed to think, huh? That you decided to take a spontaneous vacation downstairs? Elope with a demon?"

Dick looked down in shame. "I'm sorry, Dami. It's complicated. I didn't get a chance to prepare or anything. And more things arose and I had to stay in hell for a while and reception isn't great down there, heh."

Tim was nearly hidden in the smoke now. He just sighed heavily. "You'll burn the wallpaper," he commented offhandedly.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Dick! I thought you'd died again! I thought you'd gotten mugged on your way home from work, someone kidnapped you and dumped your body in Gotham Bay!" Damian was yelling, gesturing wildly with his hands. "So, yes, I'm angry. Yes, I want to punch you. And _will someone please put him out!_ " He pointed at Tim, who had burst into flames.

Thankfully, the fire was only contained to the immediate area, and when Damian finally calmed down from his angry rant, there was a black circle of charred carpet by Tim's feet and a large scorch mark on the wallpaper behind him. Tim's clothes were mostly fine, but some of it had still been eaten away.

Damian took a deep breath before talking, the volume much lower than before. "Will someone bother explaining why the hell he burst into flames in my house?"

Dick exchanged glances with Jason and Tim.

"You guys are bonded. Like by soul. Or, I don't know if demons have souls, but your physical and emotional statuses have effects on each other," Dick explained. "I'm not much of an expert on this, so it may be a better idea for one of them to explain."

"Basically, we're stuck for life," Tim deadpanned. "If you die, I die. If I die, you die. When you get hurt now, I will as well, but to a lesser degree. And vice versa. And if you decide to have a mental breakdown, I'll probably start crying spontaneously or something stupidly embarrassing like that."

"Then just break the bond."

"Wish it were that easy. Thing is, they can't be broken. And to complicate things more, I'm next in line to rule hell. Which mean, now, so are you. And an even bigger problem, you're human."

"Tt. Like my humanity is the greatest issue here. I didn't even consent to this."

"There is no consent needed for bonding. What, you think I consented to it?"

"Well, since humans don't have these stupid bonds, yes. I think it's your fault."

"How can it be my fault? I didn't make the rules! I wasn't the first demon ever, you know?"

"Okay, getting a little heated again," Dick said with a strained smile. "Why don't we just figure something out for the time's being? If I'm correct, you two can't be far from one another for too long. But at the same time, it seems that the minute you two are in the same room, bad things start happening. So what do we do?"

"Damian can come to hell."

"Fuck that," Damian scoffed.

"No way," Tim said at the same time.

Jason cocked his head. "Why not? It's a valid solution."

Tim's panic started rising and Damian winced. "You said it yourself, Jay. Bruce will literally kill me if he found out. And what do you think Father will do?! They can't know!"

Damian's eyes narrowed for a split second before he put in his two cents. "I will not pick up my life here and completely relocate myself for a bunch of psychos."

Dick made a hurt sound. Damian almost felt guilty.

Jason sighed and looked at the ceiling, muttering under his breath for a second. Then he looked at Damian. "You know, you'd survive well in hell," he said. "You've got the spunk. Maybe you're like Dick, have some hidden demon blood in you somewhere down the line."

Damian gritted his teeth, looking obviously uncomfortable with that idea.

"I hate you all," he growled, flopping backwards in his bed, temporarily defeated.

* * *

CHAPTER 3

In the end, it was decided that Tim would stay with Damian in Damian's penthouse. While both Damian and Tim were rather unhappy about the idea, they both agreed it was better than the alternative. So they settled in.

It was late in the evening. Damian had curled up in the living room, reading a thick book, one that he'd read several times already. Tim however, was exploring every inch of the penthouse. He had gone through the kitchen, the long hallway full of original artwork, the three guest bedrooms (Damian had forbidden Tim from entering the master bedroom), the minibar, library and pet rooms (he had a fucking _cow_ ), and he still have several more rooms to go.

When Tim reached the living room, Damian didn't even look up to acknowledge him.

"Why would you read in here if you have a perfectly functioning library?" Tim asked accusingly.

"Better lighting," Damian said shortly. Since Dick and Jason have left, Damian keeps his conversations with Tim short and to the point.

"And this is the fifteenth television I've seen in this penthouse. Why would one person need fifteen televisions?" Tim asked.

"One can never have too much."

"You're the spoiled one, aren't you," Tim asked. "Daddy was rich and he gave you everything you've ever wanted, didn't he? You probably don't even work."

Damian glared at him from over the top of his book. "You don't know anything about you. You are in no position to be making assumptions."

Tim laughed humorlessly. "And what about you? I could tell that you were making assumptions about me form a mile away. Despite what you may think, you're rather easy to read."

"Tt."

"I'm correct, am I not?"

"Maybe," Damian said, flipping a page causally, but Tim could sense the anger boiling under the calm exterior, even without the bond. "I thought that you were some pompous asshole who thought it would be funny to play a joke on me and ruin my life, yes. I also thought you were the epitome of evil, seeing that you're heir to the throne of hell, and but now I know better. You're all of the above and a complete idiot. Honestly, do you never shut up?"

Tim's mouth snapped shut. "You know what? I don't even know why I'm listening to Jason or Dick. I can fend for myself. Don't know about you, but I also don't care about you."

"Unfortunately for both of us, you have to. One little slip and oops! Dead heir! Daddy's not going to be happy, is he?" Damian said mockingly. Tim really wanted to punch him and knock all of the man's perfect teeth out.

"Huh, at least he's not absent like yours seems to be."

Damian growled at that.

"Hit a soft spot, did I? What, your parents didn't love you enough so now you're this angry shell of a man?" Tim asked, copying Damian's mocking voice from before.

"My father was a great man," Damian snapped. "You didn't know him like I did."

"You don't sound convinced."

Damian shook his head. "I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're never going to listen anyway. You think you're above humankind. If only that were true."

"Careful," Tim warned. "Your bestie friend is one of us."

"Tt," Damian said. "From what I heard, he didn't have much of a choice. And Dick's a good person. His intentions are always pure. And he always thinks of others before himself. His Achilles' heel, unfortunately," he said softly.

Tim saw that Damian had a soft spot for Dick, idolized him a bit, even. Tim couldn't help but smirk. "Must suck knowing that your hero not so heroic anymore, doesn't it?"

Damian frowned.

Tim continued, feeling a bit victorious over the stubborn human at last. "Feeling betrayed, maybe? Lied to?"

"Don't talk about Dick that way."

"Aw, protective, aren't you? Heard he's got a boyfriend?"

Damian stood up, the book falling from his lap. "You shut up."

"Ooh, I thought I'd hit a sore spot with Daddy dearest, but no, no, no," Tim leered. "It's _Dickie_ dearest. Is wittle Dami harboring a crush on Dickiebird?"

Damian punched him, hard. Tim actually went flying into the wall, clutching his jaw.

"What the hell?" Tim asked. Damian ignored the faint throbbing in his own jaw.

"I told you to shut up. You have no right to say that about Dick. He saved your brother. And he gave up his life and his future for that. Don't you dare use him against me."

Tim glared at him but said nothing more. Instead, he whirled around and stomped out of the penthouse, finding satisfaction in slamming the door really hard behind him, shaking the windows.

With a light pop, Tim teleported away.

He ended up in Gotham's famous rose gardens, dedicated to some old lady or something. He walked among the sweet-smelling flowers for a while, calming himself down. Miles away, he felt Damian also letting out some pent up anger. If the soreness in his knuckles were anything to go by, Damian was making good use of his punching bag at the moment.

"Sorry to bother you," a quiet voice said behind Tim. "But do you happen to have the time?"

Tim turned around, a bit surprised. "Hm? Oh, sorry. No, I don't."

The rather puppy-looking man laughed lightly. "It's okay. I wasn't actually looking for the time. I just needed a reason to start a conversation."

Tim raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "And why are you trying to start a conversation with me?"

The man was quite a bit taller than Tim, maybe a few inches taller than Damian, around Jason's height. He had medium brown hair and bright blue eyes as well as an ugly pair of glasses. His features were sharp and defined, but his smile and sheepish expressions softened them.

"I don't know. I just like talking to strangers. Bad habit, I know, but it's fun learning about the lives of other people, but not in a creepy way, I promise. You just looked deep in thought so I was wondering what was on your mind. But you don't have to tell me! I don't want to impose or anything," The man gave Tim another sheepish smile. "Sorry, I ramble a lot."

Tim found himself slowly smiling. Then he started laughing lightly. "You certainly are a plot twist in my rather crappy day. I'm Tim." He held out his hand. Apparently it was a way for humans to greet each other.

The man's smile widened, his eyes squeezing together into crescents. "Connor! Nice to meet you, Tim!"

Tim couldn't help but return his smile. It was contagious. While Tim usually did not enjoy the company of humans, he could make an exception every once in a while, especially after a shitty day.

"So, what were you thinking about, Tim?" Connor asked. "Wait, I feel like it's going to be a long story. Do you drink coffee? Or maybe it's too late for you to drink caffeine. Are you one of those people? Because I can totally work with soda or juice or something like that."

Tim chuckled. "I love coffee."

Connor beamed. "Great! There's this 24-hour coffee shop right across the street. And let me tell you, their caramel latte is to _die_ for. But don't actually die, of course. I want to hear your story."

They started walking across the street. Connor babbled on about everything and anything and Tim listened. He found Connor rather endearing, like a little puppy you can't help but coddle.

Once they were settled in a tiny booth in one corner of the café, Tim began his story. Of course, he left out all the demon related stuff, but he fabricated a similar version.

"Mm," Connor sipped his mocha thoughtfully. "So relationship issues is what's got you out here?"

Tim shrugged, stirring his half cup of the caramel latte, as Connor had suggested. It was a bit sweet for his tastes. "It's complicated. I wouldn't categorize it as a relationship, though."

Connor made an understanding sound. "You should just leave them, honestly," Connor said. "Life is too short to wonder whether you should keep all the possible poisonous people in your life."

Tim chuckled sadly. "If it were only that simple."

There was a brief silence. Church bells rang in the distance, twelve times. Connor changed the subject. "So you like ice cream? There's this cute little shop up the street, and they have the most random flavors. I'm pretty sure they have ghost pepper and grass flavored. How do you even flavor something the flavor of grass? Why would anyone try that?"

Tim laughed lightly. "Who knows. Humans are weird."

Connor nodded seriously. "I second that."

But soon after the coffees, Tim found himself trying all different kinds of odd ice cream flavors with a human named Conner, whose company Tim couldn't deny that he enjoyed.

Though he doesn't know how long it would take for Tim to forgive the man for tricking him into eating the mustard flavored ice cream.

But even then, Tim was grateful because in that moment, he forgot all about his life's problems.

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Sunlight streams through the open kitchen window. Damian and Dick are sitting at the little table set in a corner of the kitchen. Dick's feet were kicked up onto the tabletop, a habit of his that Damian hated. Damian himself was nursing a mug of steaming black coffee.

Jason, on the other hand, was bustling around the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Damian had been rather apprehensive about letting the man use his kitchen, but Dick insisted that Jason cares for kitchens like Damian takes care of his pets. Tim was absent from the group.

"You really should cut back on your coffee intake," Dick commented, eating a handful of cereal.

Damian glared at him from over the top of his mug.

"I mean, I'm sure Tim already drinks enough for the both of you, just the way you like it too, black."

Damian looked terribly tired and very much done with is friend. Dark circles were heavy under his eyes and they stood out starkly from his pale skin. But he always looked like that, so it was completely normal.

"Speaking of Timmy. Where is he? Did you guys not have a sleepover?" Dick asked, licking the sugary residue off of his fingers.

"That's disgusting," Damian said. "And no, your demon friend did not spend the night. He stormed out last night. And good riddance, in my opinion."

"Tim left?" Jason asked, setting a plate in front of Dick and another one in front of Damian, who stared at it suspiciously. "Where'd he go?"

Damian shrugged. "Who knows. I don't care either."

Jason poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Damian, next to Dick. "Feet off the table, Dickie. Have some manners," he chastised lightly, tossing his apron over the chair next to him.

Just then, the door to the kitchen opened and Tim stepped out, a smile stretching across his face.

"I'm back~" He sang. "Good morning, good morning, good morning." The other three watched as Tim practically danced towards them. "Good morning, Dickie! Good morning, Jay!" He paused, lips thinning at Damian. "And the human fool."

Damian glared at him coldly. "Incompetent demon."

Dick kicked Damian under the table. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Tt. A couple months ago, you did too."

Dick pouted. "Grouch. So what's got you so giddy this beautiful day, Tim?"

Tim grinned widely again. "I met someone last night. And we had coffee and ice cream. And he gave me this." Tim produced a small piece of paper, hastily ripped.

Dick took it and stared at it for a few seconds. He started squealing. "Ooh! Timmy!"

"What is it?" Tim asked. "I haven't figured it out yet. Is it code?"

Dick laughed. "It's a phone number. She gave you her phone number? That means she _likes_ you."

Tim laughed, shaking his head. "You're funny, Dick. Also, it's a man, not a woman. I don't have a phone. I don't know why I need his phone number."

Dick produced his own phone from his pocket. "Well, I don't need this anymore, so you can have it, I guess. Lemme show you how to work this." Tim and Dick hovered over Dick's phone and Dick showed him how to use the basic settings on the device.

Tim was surprisingly taken by the odd human technology, something he had never taken interest in.

"Wait, so if I write something here, he'll get it on his phone as well? Like immediately?" Tim asked.

Dick nodded. "Practically instant."

"Should I send something?" Tim asked. "What do you think I should send?"

Dick laughed at his eagerness. "Just a casual thank you will suffice. Maybe telling him how much fun you had. It will hint that you want to do something like that again, but you won't sound too eager."

"Tt," Damian scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes.

Jason smirked at him. "Jealous?" He asked lightly.

Damian glared at him. "Of what?"

Jason shrugged. "I don't know. You had a certain look. It's a bit different from your normal angry look, obviously, but it looked like you were jealous."

"Tt." Damian looked away, avoiding Jason's eyes.

"So you were?" Jason asked.

"I wasn't. There's nothing to be jealous of," Damian said. "In fact, it's a great thing. Now I won't have to deal with him as much."

"Whatever you say, short stack, whatever you say."

"I am _not_ short."

"Shorter than me."

Damian growled at him, and Jason only laughed. He slammed his coffee cup down, Dick jerking at the loud noise.

"I'm going to sleep," Damian announced.

"This early? It's like nine!" Dick said in surprise.

Damian didn't answer, stomping away. A moment later, a loud slamming could be heard at the other end of the penthouse.

Dick just sighed. "He's just like that. Moody." He takes a big bite of waffles. "Pretty weird. Wonder why. Bit worried about him."

Jason snorted. "I wouldn't be. With an attitude like that? That kid can survive the freaking apocalypse. Sass those zombies to death."

Dick turned to Tim seriously. "Hey, can you watch over him? Like, make sure he's not going through some hard time or something. I mean, I kind of feel like a bad friend now that I realize that I practically know nothing about Damian. His parents were some rich people who I've never met, he doesn't work, and he's terribly grouchy all the time. Also, he doesn't like people. That can't be particularly healthy, can it?"

Tim sighed. "Okay, I'll keep an eye out on him. But don't expect me to get along with the brat."

Dick beamed. "Of course not! The day anyone actually gets along with Damian is the day I shall give up cereal forever."

For the rest of the day, Tim texted Connor back and forth. It didn't take long for another meeting to be planned. Conner told Tim to meet him at the coffee shop again a bit earlier than last night though.

Tim was rather excited throughout the day. He stayed in Damian's penthouse while Dick and Jason left around lunchtime. Damian himself didn't appear again until the late afternoon. Even then, Damian just grunted at him before leaving to hole up in his room all over again.

Tim tried to figure out what was causing Damian's unnatural behavior, as Dick had said, but Tim hasn't been around humans enough to actually know how they're supposed to act. Dick was always really happy, and Connor seemed rather peppy as well. So why was Damian all doom and gloom?

He realized that Jason wasn't wrong. The kid would do quite well in hell.

Tim spent a good part of his afternoon trying to figure out Damian's feelings (without talking to him) and texting Connor.

Dinner time rolled around and Damian had apparently ordered a pizza, coming to the answer the door and collecting his food before disappearing into his room again. Tim scoffed lightly behind him.

Dick could just be exaggerating. Maybe Damian has something wrong with him. Maybe he's just like that. A sour, Scrooge-like figure.

However he wasn't going to let Damian ruin his night. When the time came, Tim teleported to the coffee shop, a few minutes early and waited there for Connor, only to be surprised to see Connor waiting inside, two cups of coffee in his hands.

"Hey, Tim!" Connor said, grinning. He had on a tan trench coat and his hair was windblown. "I took the liberty of grabbing coffees. Here's yours." He handed Tim a paper cup.

Tim took it, smiling. He lifted the lid warily. Thankfully, he was met with only aromatic black coffee, no sugar, no cream.

Connor laughed. "I noticed that you did not hold the caramel latte to the same degree of tastiness as I do, so I assumed you were a man who likes your coffees black?"

Tim hid his smile behind his cup.

"Anyway, I thought we should go roller skating today. Forewarning however, I've never been roller skating, so I could be a complete klutz," Connor said.

Tim smiled wider, unable to help himself. "I've never been roller skating either." He didn't even know what it was. But he was willing to give it a try.

"It can't be that hard, right?" Connor asked.

Twenty minutes later, they were stepping out onto the rink and the first thing Connor did was fall.

"Crap," he said. "This might be much harder than I thought."

Tim, on the other hand, could skate with ease and grace. He ended up leading Connor around the rink in slow, large circles, skating backwards while holding onto both of Connor's hands.

"You okay?" Tim asked, sometimes letting go to see if Connor could keep up by himself. But Connor would end up tripping and slipping, so Tim just went back to helping him.

Around ten, before the skating rink closed, they played a few slow songs, for couple skating. While Tim didn't really understand the concept, Connor insisted they stay. So they went at their own slow pace, through the dimmed rink, and it was actually really nice.

That is, until one overly rowdy couple slammed into Connor, knocking him forward and into Tim. The two of them slipped and crashed into the ground, Connor landing on top of Tim.

"Oh, shoot," Connor scrambled to untangle himself. "I'm sorry. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I? Here, let me get off." He slipped and fell on Tim again.

Tim laughed breathlessly. "I'm good. It's fine, really. Connor, just roll over and sit up."

Connor blushed in the dim light, quickly doing as Tim suggested. "Sorry. You're okay, though, right? I didn't hurt you or anything?"

Tim chuckled and brushed himself off. "No, no. I'm not made of glass, you know. I may be shorter, but I'm pretty sturdy."

Connor started to say something else, but at that moment, Tim felt an odd burning sensation in his shoulder. And down his back, and on his lower left thigh as well. When he stopped to acknowledge these pains, they only seemed to grow worse. It wasn't crippling, but it hurt like hell.

Checking over himself quickly, Tim noticed nothing wrong. That only meant one thing.

"Connor, I'm so sorry, but I need to go," Tim said, watching as the smile on Connor's face died.

"Oh my god, was it something I said? I'm sorry, Tim, I-" Connor started to say.

"No!" Tim said quickly. "You didn't say anything to offend me. I just- There's something I suddenly remembered and I really need to go do it. I'm so sorry about this, it's all my fault," Tim assured.

Connor didn't look too convinced. Tim started skating towards the exit and Connor followed. "Do you need a ride, then?" Connor asked. "It's a bit far from any apartments or houses from here," he said.

Tim shook his head. "I don't want to bother you. I'll call a taxi. I will be fine, I promise. Thank you so much for tonight, I apologize for this." Tim said truthfully. "Maybe some other night?" He asked, a bit hopeful.

Connor smiled a little. "Yeah, okay. Take care, Tim," Connor said.

Tim waved after him. He dropped the skates off at the front counter and promptly teleported. He had wasted so much time already, and something had happened to Damian. Damn it, he had promised Dick!

Tim teleported straight to wherever Damian was.

It was a small room, under an abandoned warehouse by the docks of Gotham Bay. The inside of the room were lined with weapons of all sorts, but no guns. Tim saw a box of rations stashed in one corner and a single light was lit in the room. Damian was sitting in a chair, a needle clenched between his teeth, his fingers frozen in mid-sew. He was stitching himself up. A pile of black fabric lay at his feet.

They stared at each other. Tim's eyes scanned the room again. Then he looked over Damian more slowly.

The man's hair was a mess, and he was bleeding from several places. A first aid kit and a bottle of alcohol was lying open on a table next to him. His pants, which were black and made of odd fabric, had a giant slash on his lower left thigh. It had already been stitched up, cleaned, and wrapped. However, the gash on Damian's right shoulder was a bit awkward, and the giant cut on his back would be even harder to reach.

There were several smaller cuts in other places, but it was nothing that wouldn't heal on its own, and even quicker with the help of a bit of demonic healing that Damian had recently gained. However, the three larger wounds could not be helped easily.

Tim sighed.

"I could heal them for you," he offered quiet.

"Tt. Like I'd trust you to heal me," Damian said through gritted teeth as he stuck the needle through his skin again, missing its mark and having to start over. Damian was right handed, so it was hard to complete the task with his left hand.

Tim walked over to Damian and put took the needle from him. Damian glared at him and didn't let go at first, but at Tim's look, he surrendered the needle and thread.

Tim worked quickly, creating neat stitches. He had never had any actual medical practice, unlike Dick, but he had read enough books to understand the basics of human anatomy and healing practices. While most of the books were outdated in today's age, they gave him enough to infer off of.

Damian took the stitches without a word, a grimace, or even a silent wince. Tim admired his stamina and tolerance for pain.

Once he was finished with the shoulder, Tim cleaned and bound it tightly before gently pushing Damian over the table, so he could see his back more clearly.

This would be harder to do. The cut ran over his spine, so stitches would definitely hurt more as well as cause more irritation later on. "Are you sure you don't want me to heal this one?"

Damian opened his mouth to say no, but thought better of it. "Just that one," he growled out lowly.

Tim didn't say anything else, just placing his hand on the wound. A moment later, skin melded together and it looked like his skin had never been cut open.

After Tim was done, he packed away the medical supplies while Damian put on a the clothes on the ground. Tim had never seen such strange clothing before.

Everything was dark grey or black. A huge bat was on the chest of Damian's shirt, if it could even be called that. A sweeping black cape rested on his shoulders and a mask of sorts was pulled over his head. Two points stuck up from the mask. Damian looked a lot more intimidating in that… costume.

Without another word, he strode out of the little room, leaving Tim behind to wonder.

* * *

CHAPTER 5

Back at Damian's penthouse, the tension could be cut with a knife. Damian sat across from a _very_ disappointed Dick while Jason and Tim flanked him on either side.

Damian had been halfway through changing when the demons barged in, Dick absolutely furious. He dragged Damian up into the main section of the penthouse and sat him on the couch, shirtless.

They were glaring at each other, and no one spoke.

"How long?" Dick finally asked, his voice cold.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been dressing up as some crazed vigilante and hopping around Gotham at night!" Dick yelled. Dick rarely lost his cool. He was always the positive one.

Damian didn't answer for a moment. When he did, his answer was strained. "Since I was eighteen."

"Eighteen."

"Yes."

"So that time you appeared in the hospital at that _ungodly_ hour?" Dick asked.

Damian shrugged. "I couldn't fix a broken arm with a broken hand, could I?"

Dick took a couple deep breaths. "Eighteen. Huh. I was hoping I'd get into college at eighteen, not bashing in people's teeth."

"I don't bash in people's teeth," Damian said. "Only those who deserve it. Criminals."

"Who taught you?" Dick demanded.

"No one. I'm self-taught."

"Bullshit."

Damian only shrugged.

"There is no way your parents allowed this," Dick said. "Sure they're not around much, but they must notice something."

Damian didn't answer. That led to a very long and uncomfortable silence.

"You really shouldn't be out every night fighting villains and criminals. Leave that to the police department," Dick finally said softly.

Damian scoffed. "They can't do anything. It's their level of incompetency that has Gotham as the most crime-ridden city in the world, Dick."

"Yes, but who said it has to be you?"

"If not me, then who?" Damian asked. "Everyone else lives in fear. They're not brave enough to stand up for what's right. Most of Gotham are cowards, Dick. The rest are scum – criminals who deserved what they get."

"You get hurt, though."

"So? It's nothing I've never taken before."

"You could die."

"Tt." Damian rolled his eyes. "I've faced death every day for the past two years, and I've never seen you say anything about it."

"That's because I didn't know!" Dick said, raising his voice again. "If you had _told_ me-"

"Then we would've been here sooner," Damian finished. "Stop trying, Dick. Nothing you say will change how I want to live my life."

Dick was frustrated now. "I'm your friend, Damian. I want what's best for you. If you die-" He stopped.

Damian's eyes flashed angrily. "If I die what? If I die, so will your new friend over there? If I die, hell will be thrust into chaos? If I die, and all of the above happens, you'll have the responsibility of ruling shoved onto your shoulders?!"

Dick looked hurt. "Dami…"

"No. I'm not changing for you, Dick. I didn't ask for you to intervene. I didn't ask for any of this," he growled. He stood up and stomped out of the living room, leaving the three demons to bathe in the darkness and the slowly receding tension.

Dick looked on the verge of tears. "I'm a horrible friend," he said softly.

"No, you're not, Dickie," Jason said, taking Dick's hands. "You're not. You're an amazing friend. Damian's just a little brat. He doesn't realize that you want what's best for him, but someday, he will."

Dick sniffled and shook his head. "I know, but I still feel guilty. I should've seen the signs. I mean, no one closes themselves from the world like he does and not have a secret."

Tim scoffed. "There are no signs, Dick. This isn't some disease that plagues millions of people worldwide. This is just him. There's no way you could've known. Stop blaming yourself."

Dick just nodded miserably. "Thanks for looking out for him, Tim."

"I would've never forgiven myself if he got hurt and I could've been there to stop it," Tim admitted. "I'll continue watching over him, promise."

Dick sniffed lightly. "Let's go," he said quietly. "I have a feeling Damian doesn't quite want us here right now."

* * *

The next day, Tim texts Connor, asking him if he wants to meet up again. He apologizes for running out on him the night before, and Connor assures him that he understands.

Tim offered to plan something, but Connor insisted that he make the plans again, so Tim allowed him to.

That night, they met at the coffee shop and Connor drove them into Gotham's countryside. Well, it isn't much of a countryside, but it was a several miles of land that was uninhabited by people. There were a few miles of woods and just a large grassy area. A couple mansions were built closer to the city side of the area, but there, it was quiet, and more importantly, the sky was clear.

Connor had brought a large blanket and he spread it over the ground, telling Tim to lie down. They spent hours looking up at the stars, Connor pointing out all the constellations he knew and told Tim the stories behind each one. When he was done, Tim picked up where he left off, pointing out the more uncommon constellations, and telling their stories as well.

Connor had been surprised at Tim's knowledge, admitting that he felt a bit stupid for telling Tim things he already knew.

But Tim told him that it was fine. He liked listening to Connor talk quietly, even though it was just the two of them, the sky, and the twinkling stars overhead.

After their little stargazing trip, Connor insisted he drive Tim all the way home instead of just dropping him off in front of the coffee shop, so Tim gave him a fake address and stood outside the house until Connor disappeared.

Then, Tim teleported to Damian. Damian glared at him when he appeared and didn't answer when Tim asked him if he was okay and everything. Taking the silence as an affirmative, Tim left.

The next night was also similar. Tim met up with Connor again, this time in front of the Tim's fake house. This time, Connor took Tim out on a boat, far out into Gotham Bay. They watched Gotham's lights from all the way out of the dark ocean.

Tim would close his eyes, feeling the warm ocean breeze in his face, the cool railing under his bare arms, and the faraway sounds of Gotham at night. He could feel Connor staring at him when he did this, and it only made a small smile curl on his face.

He shivered slightly at that thought, trying to imaging what Connor looked like when he stared at him, thinking Tim didn't notice.

Connor noticed his shiver. "Cold?" He asked softly, already taking off his large jacket and draping it over Tim's narrower shoulders.

Tim pulled the edges of Connor's jacket closer together, taking in the warmth. His smile grew. "Thanks," he said. It also smelled of Connor, whatever that smelled like. Tim couldn't describe it. Happy, soft, warm.

"What's your favorite thing about Gotham?" Connor asked, leaning on the railing as well, his head tilted towards Tim. Tim looked at him, noting the way Gotham's night lights reflected in Connor's dark eyes.

Tim sighed, his smile staying on his face firmly. "I don't know. Would it be silly to say it were you?"

Connor laughed at that, but that was the only answer Tim got.

Tim kept the jacket, or at least Connor insisted that he should. Tim popped in on Damian again and this time, he got a few angry words to just 'stay the hell away'. Other than that, he seemed to be doing fine, so Tim left.

Connor was busy the next night, so Tim tried to keep himself busy as well, following behind Damian all night as he punched people left and right. He kept himself hidden, but obviously not well enough.

"Why are you still following me?" Damian growled, his voice distorted by the cowl he wore.

"To make sure you're okay."

Damian shoved one man against the dirty brick wall, crushing his nose. "Like you care."

Tim delicately sidestepped the second, already unconscious thug. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of Connor's jacket. "Okay, I promised Dick."

"I wish he'd just stay out of my business," Damian said, mostly to himself. "Go tell him that I'm fine and to stop worrying and sending you to check after me."

Tim watched him for a moment longer before leaving, deciding that Damian could probably fend for himself fine.

When Connor agreed to meet up with Tim again, he drove them out towards the countryside again. Tim wondered briefly if they were going stargazing once more, but when they turned up onto a bumpier dirt road, he grew a bit confused.

The climbed steadily up the hill and when Connor finally pulled to a stop, he got out excitedly and gestured for Tim to follow him. They pushed through some trees and bushes and came out at the edge of a cliff. Dark waves lapped at the base of the cliff as they stood there.

The ocean stretched out for miles and the moon hung above it, spilling its light across the surface of the sea like a dark mirror. A few clouds floated in the sky, but it was mostly clear.

"Wow," Tim breathed. "It's beautiful."

Connor hummed in agreement. "Isn't it? It's one of my favorite things about Gotham."

"This place?" Tim asked.

Connor smiled. "No, but yes. I love her hidden beauty. Everyone knows this city for her crime and the Batman, but I love this city for the things people don't see and don't appreciate anymore. And this is my favorite, my little secret, if you will. Gotham is a lady that has been scorned and her name has been dirtied over the years, but inside, she's still beautiful, if only someone takes the time to see it."

Tim found himself leaning against Connor's shoulder as they watched the moon steadily rise higher in the sky.

Connor shifted suddenly, pulling back. Tim turned around and saw Connor pulling off his shirt, and then his pants.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked, eying Connor apprehensively.

"Going for a swim," he answered. "Duh. What were you thinking?"

Tim glanced at the ocean. "Down _there?_ "

Connor laughed. "Of course, silly. You're hilarious, Tim." He walked to the edge of the cliff. "Well? Are you coming? The water's not that cold, really."

Tim still eyed the cliff dubiously. "Is that even safe?" He wasn't worried about himself. If he got hurt, he would heal quickly. But if Connor got hurt… Tim couldn't say the same for him.

"It's fine. I've done this a million times. There's nothing down there but starfish and sand dollars."

Finally deciding that it was better for him to be _in_ the ocean when Connor gets hurt than a hundred feet above, Tim slid his shirt over his head, and his jeans followed. As he stood in the cool air in only his underwear, Tim felt more than a little exposed. Thankfully, Connor didn't look him over or anything.

"C'mon. Let's go." Connor took his hand, giving Tim a reassuring squeeze and Tim squeezed back. Then, Connor dived off the cliff in perfect formation, leaving Tim scrambling after him, less gracefully.

Connor dived into the ocean without much of a sound while Tim practically caused a tsunami. As he surfaced from the freezing water, Tim was gasping for air. Connor popped up beside him, his dark hair sticking to his face and he laughed.

"Not bad?"

Tim splashed at him. "It's fucking f-freezing."

"You'll get used to it," Connor said. "This way." He started swimming, his strokes even and calm. Tim swam after him, using his demon strength more than anything to keep him next to Connor and his powerful strokes.

They swam around the base of the cliff and Tim was surprised when the entrance to a small cave came into view. Connor gestured for him to follow him into the cave. The entrance was rather small, but once inside, it was huge. The water grew shallower quite quickly, and they went up on the sand.

Connor handed Tim a towel that had been lying in a neat pile by the edge of the water.

"How did you bring all this stuff in here," Tim asked in wonder. On the small sandy area, there was a large blanket, the same one they had stargazed on, several large pillows, blankets, a basket of candy and other treats, and a tiny projector facing the opposite wall.

Connor smiled, lying down on the blanket and patted the space next to him. "Brought it in earlier today. Usually I just keep towels, water and some snacks in here, but since I was going to have a guest… I decided to redecorate a bit."

Tim sat down besides Connor, leaning into him a bit. Connor wrapped his arm around Tim's shoulders, pressing Tim's wet hair into his bare chest. "It doesn't get cold in here because the cave keeps out most of the wind, but if you do get cold, I have a couple hoodies hidden around here too. And blankets if you prefer that. Is this okay? I didn't really know if you even liked movies or what movie snacks you liked so I just got some of everything."

Tim shook out a blanket and threw it over them. "It's fine," he assured. "I love it." He rested his head against Connor's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He closed his eyes briefly, and in that moment, Tim had only one regret – the frustrating bond that bound him to another man that did not care for Tim.

Tim didn't really pay attention to the movie itself (it was about a bunch of moving toys), instead focusing his attention on Connor. The man was good-looking, Tim will not deny that, but he also went against everything Tim thought about humans in general. He was sweet and considerate, but each time Tim thought he had figured him out, Connor would surprise him.

Connor's rather vast knowledge of the skies, his secret love for Gotham's beauty, the way he takes his coffee, his broad physique, his physical grace, his power to drain the awkwardness from every situation. Connor was perfect, in a sense.

After the movie, Connor told him to leave everything in the cave and he'd come pick it up tomorrow. And another surprise, there was another entrance to the cave, but it required a bit of climbing and slipping, which was why they didn't come in this way. But half an hour later, they were back at the top of the cliff with sand in their hair and small scratches on their skin (Tim's had already healed). They redressed and drove back down to Gotham.

Tim was dropped off again, and he reached out to teleport to Damian, but could not find him. Tim frowned to himself. He tried again, but he couldn't feel Damian at all. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing at the moment. Panicking, Tim teleported to Damian's penthouse only to find it empty. Knowing he couldn't search the entirety of Gotham, Tim sat down and waited.

A couple hours later, Damian appeared.

"Where were you?" Tim snarled.

"Out."

"Why couldn't I find you?"

Damian smirked. "Think you're the only one with powers? I developed some new technology. Glad to see it worked."

Tim stood, stomping towards Damian with a purpose. "What if you had gotten hurt and I couldn't find you? What if you bled out somewhere?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "I'm not that stupid."

"But it's possible."

"Yes, it's possible," Damian said tightly. "But it won't happen."

"How do you know?" Tim asked.

Damian glared at him. "It just won't, alright? Now go away and leave me alone! I'm not some kid, Tim. I don't need you to watch over me all the time! I can take care of myself and I would greatly appreciate it if you'd just fuck off and let me do so!"

Tim wanted to smack him. So hard. But he didn't. He refrained, instead teleporting away, this time, going home.

* * *

CHAPTER 6

Tim arrives in hell, his rage boiling and he hoped that Damian could feel it. He also hoped that it would keep him awake all night.

As Tim stomped through the halls of the palace with no actual destination while muttering to himself, Bruce spotted him.

 _Tim,_ Bruce approached him in his shadow form. _I haven't seen you around in a while. How have you been?_

"I'm fine," Tim said, looking a bit angry.

 _Are you? You seem a bit agitated._

Tim sighed. "Maybe a bit."

 _Well, I hope this isn't putting more stress on you, but I should remind you that you are going to be ruling hell in a year from now. And this means that you need a partner to do so._ Bruce reminded.

Tim sighed heavily. "Why? Can't I rule alone? Maybe I don't want a partner to rule with."

Tim could almost feel Bruce's look of disapproval. _I know you're an independent, Tim, but it's the law._

"I'll just tell Dick to change the law then," Tim grumbled.

 _If you start using your friend to change everything you don't like about hell, then there will be an uproar and demons will start rebelling against you. You need to keep certain rules, such as this one. I cannot fathom why, but it is the law. I'm sorry, Tim._ Bruce did sound a bit sorry, but not too much.

Tim frowned unhappily. "And it must be a demon partner?"

 _Who else would it be? You can't have a human ruling hell, can you?_

"Just wondering."

 _I do have some suggestions, if you're interested. There's the girl on the demonic court, Kazchilucka. She's a bit oblivious, but she is smart and well respected, pureblood,_ Bruce started.

"Kori?" Tim made an uncomfortable face. "She's Dick's friend, isn't she? Mm, she's nice and all, but she makes me a little uncomfortable. I also think she's more interesting in Jason."

 _I see she's adopted a human name? Kori… suits her. Well, there are more. Another girl, daughter of one of your Father's advisors. You've seen her around, certainly. Schetafonia?_

"Steph? Yeah, she's nice I guess. Also pureblood, right?" Tim mused, remembering her. Stephanie was around often when Tim was growing up, and she was nice enough. They were never close though.

 _But a good choice. Raised into hell's politics and everything. There is also Blabzerchiw. I am good friends with her Sire. Her Mother is dead unfortunately. She was also a respectable woman._

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that to Babs. She wants to get away from all of hell's crazy politics."

 _Has all of hell's younger generation adopted human names?_

"Pretty much. It's a habit. Also, it's easier than saying everyone's full names."

 _I see. Well, my next suggestion is a younger half blood. His name is Konelipztch. He's not one of the higher level demons, but I've taken a liking to him,_ Bruce said. _He is fair and very intelligent. Pity he isn't pureblood. He would be my first candidate, should he be._

"Hm, I don't know him," Tim said. "Is he around my age?"

 _In demon years? Far from. He's only been a demon for a little more than a decade. But human years, I'd say he seems a little older than you._

"Oh. I'd like to meet him, I guess. I should give everyone a chance, right?"

 _I believe he spends a lot of his free him in the palace library. He is the caretaker of hell's archives after all._

"Can we go now?" Tim asked.

 _Are you not busy?_ Bruce asked. _You seemed quite worked up about something earlier._

"I could use a break," Tim admitted.

 _Very well, let's go._

They walked silently next to each other. Tim walked, at least. Bruce floated. They went deeper into the palace, taking a shortcut through the gardens before coming to the library. Bruce opened the doors telekinetically and floated inside. Tim followed.

The library wasn't somewhere Tim spent a lot of time. Sure he loved reading and knowledge, but this specific library was home to hell's archives. They recorded the birth and death of each demon, the past of each demon in their human lives if they had one. It also housed the names of all the human souls currently in hell. There were more information, but that was the basics. The archives had to organized very carefully, so one very trustworthy demon was elected the job.

While it seemed like an easy job and rather mundane, the title as the Keeper of Archives was a greatly honored one among demon society.

Bruce led Tim along long rows of thick volumes, all the same color and the same size. There had to be half a billion books in here, at least. From the outside, the library seemed smaller, but the inside was humongous. It was part of its mystery.

Finally, they approached a figure that was carefully shelving new books onto still empty shelves.

When they approached, Bruce spoke. _Konelipztch, I'd like to introduce you to someone._

The young demon looked up at them and his eyes widened.

"Connor?" Tim asked, his own jaw dropping.

"Tim!" Connor looked at him then at Bruce, then back to Tim. He groaned. "Oh no, _Tim?!_ "

 _You… know each other._ Bruce observed. _Ah, and here I was, hoping I'd finally introduce Tim to someone that he didn't know before me. I also see there may be some things to clear up between you two, so I shall take my leave for now. Tim, we will talk some other time. Good day._ Bruce disappeared, teleporting away.

"Fuck, did you know this whole time?" Connor asked.

Tim shook his head. "No! Did you? You must've right? I'm pretty hard to miss."

Connor chuckled weakly. "Trust me, I was as clueless as you were. I promise I wasn't trying to seduce you in any way to manipulate my way into power through you or anything-"

Tim couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't think that! I was just surprised you're a demon. I was very much convinced you were human."

Connor laughed. "Me too! But now that I think of it, it makes a little sense. I mean, you always asked me to drop you off in front of a dark house that I've never actually seen you enter. Not to mention, you didn't really like food."

Tim smiled, glad to know that Connor's personality did not change. "So, Keeper of Archives, huh?"

Connor grinned. "Prince of hell, eh?"

Tim blushed. "Oh, shush. It was a necessary lie. If you were human, you'd be pretty freaked out to know that you went on several dates with a demon, let alone the prince of hell."

"No, I'd actually think it's pretty sweet of you to think I was worthy of going on several dates with." Connor paused before making a whining noise. "Damn it, I went on several dates with the prince of hell and I pretty much acted like a klutz the entire time."

Tim laughed and shook his head. "You didn't, I promise! I thought it was all very sweet and thoughtful. I wasn't lying when I said I enjoyed the dates. And I would also enjoy having some more."

"Not very subtle, are you?"

Tim grinned. "Not when I really want something."

Connor looked at him, a bit more seriously. "You actually want to go on more dates with me? Even if you know that I'm a demon now?"

Tim wrinkled his nose at that. "What's that supposed to mean? You make it sound like I'm against demons or something. Forgot that I'm the next ruler of hell?"

Connor shook his head, his hair flopping around. "No, I mean, I thought you only thought of me as interesting because I was human."

Tim thought it over. "Partly. But I also really enjoyed spending time with you. I believed you were human because you were different from everyone else. Different from any demon or human I've ever met. You were… you."

"And you liked me?"

"Still do."

Connor slowly smiled again. "Okay, that's good."

"Not going to return the sentiment?"

"I like you, too, Tim," Connor said with exaggerated exasperation, his smile betraying his emotions. "Really."

Tim surprised himself by hugging Connor around the waist. The other demon was surprised as well because he paused a second before hugging Tim back. They stood there for a while, and Tim listened to Connor's heartbeat.

"How did you end up in hell?" Tim asked softly. "If you don't mind me asking."

Connor couldn't quite rest his chin on top of Tim's head, but he tried (and failed). "The cliché sold-my-soul move."

"What for?" Tim questioned, tilting his head up a bit, but not letting go of Connor's waist.

Connor sighed. "I had a younger brother. Well, he's my cousin, but I was practically raised with him, so I consider him my brother. He was sick. Terminally. One night, I was sitting by his hospital bed, just listening to him breath through a tube, and the sound was horrible and it pained me to listen to him like that. That night, he told me that he had a dream to be an astronaut someday," Connor's voice shook a little as he spoke. "He wanted to 'fly among the stars and touch the moon'. Ten minutes later, his heart stopped and doctors came rushing in, I was pushed out into the hall and it was a complete mess. I remember standing in the hall, crying because I thought he would die. Then a nurse came up to me and told me there was a way to save him. And before I knew it, I'd sold my soul."

Tim tightened his arms around Connor a little more. "How many years did you get?" he asked.

"Ten."

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry," Tim whispered.

Connor shook his head. "Don't be. It's not your fault. I would have done it all over again to save him."

"Did he ever become an astronaut?" Tim asked.

"No," Connor said a bit sadly. "But he wrote a book on stars and outer space. Dedicated it to me."

Tim smiled himself. "So that's where you get all your astronomy knowledge from?"

"Yeah."

Tim pulled back from Connor. He looked into Connor's dark eyes seriously. "You're a great person. And I'm not classifying you as a human or a demon. Your personality is so special, Connor. It belongs among those stars, honestly. Shining bright and eternal."

Connor's eyes were wide. He looked like he didn't know what to say. "Really?"

Tim nodded. "I truly believe so," he whispered. Then he leaned in slowly, then suddenly, kissing Connor full on the lips.

* * *

CHAPTER 7

"Really?" Tim asked, leaning over the table, trying to reach Connor's book upside down. "Wow, I didn't know that. Plants are weird."

They were sitting in a small library in the northern part of Gotham. The library was closed, but when was that going to stop a pair of demons? So naturally, they broke in and are now reading through every book that catches their eye.

"Ooh, it says here that fish have growth rings. So it's kind of like a tree right? The older the get, the more growth rings. Fish are weird as well," Tim said with a wrinkle of his nose.

Connor hummed in agreement.

They had been doing this for the past few days. Since Tim couldn't locate Damian, nor did he want to, Tim threw himself into gathering more knowledge about earth and humans and anything, really. The two of them would hole up in a library after closing hours and pour over books together.

They exchanged information that was interesting or could be important. Tim found that even doing this was fun. He wouldn't doubt that doing anything with Connor would be fun.

That is, until pain explodes in Tim's body.

He cried out loudly, jerking and falling from his chair. Everything hurt. His head was suddenly throbbing like someone was banging against it from the inside. His ribs felt broken, and he couldn't move his arm. Tim felt like his stomach had been kicked over and over again.

Connor was shouting his name, but Tim couldn't quite hear him. Once the initial shock wore away, but the pain had not lessened, Tim managed to stand, clutching his stomach. Connor was supporting him and asking questions that Tim couldn't to process at the moment.

He need to find Damian, now.

"Gotta… go," Tim said through gritted teeth.

"What? Where are you going? Tim, something's wrong-"

"No," Tim growled. "I have to- ugh," he groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed through him. "Sorry," he managed and teleported.

He teleported straight to Jason, wherever he was, and Tim barely noticed as Dick and Jason jumped apart upon his arrival.

"Dude, seriously?" Jason said, but then noticed that something was wrong. "Tim? Oh fuck, Dick, help me!"

They both grabbed either side of Tim, holding him up as his knees gave out.

"Damian…" Tim rasped, fighting to stay conscious. Damian had long since blacked out. Tim could feel it. "Can't… find him."

Dick looked worried. "Damn it, Dami. I think I know where he is," he said, a concentrated look on his face. With that, he teleported them to Damian's penthouse. "Wait here," he instructed. "I'll bring him back."

Jason carried Tim into Damian's bedroom. Tim weakly tried to protest that Damian would be more than upset, but he couldn't find the strength. He was laid down gently, and he only whimpered slightly.

"Shh…" Jason whispered, stroking Tim's hair back. "You'll be okay, alright? Damian's fine. You're fine. You guys'll be fine."

A couple moments passed and Dick stumbled into the room, carrying Damian, who's head was lolling off to the side, unconscious.

"Shit," Jason gasped. "What happened to him?"

Dick quickly set him down besides Tim and pulled off as much of the bloody bat armor as he could. "I don't really know. I found him badly beat up in some dirty alley way. We need to heal and clean these wounds ASAP."

Jason touched Dick's shoulder. "We can't heal him anymore," Jason said softly. "He's bound to Tim, so only Tim can heal him."

Dick furrowed his eyebrows. "But I healed him before."

"That was when the bond was new. It wasn't fully developed. But it's gotten stronger, which is why Tim had such a harsh reaction to it. They'll have to heal on their own. It just takes time now."

Dick chewed on his lip. "At least let me clean his wounds and bind them so they don't get infected."

Jason nodded. "But that's the most you can do for him right now."

Dick sighed and nodded. "I understand." He quickly set to work cleaning and binding each stab wound and cut meticulously.

When he was done, Jason and Dick stood at the foot of Damian's bed and watched the two lying on the bed. Tim drifted in and out of consciousness, but Damian stayed firmly out cold.

And he stayed out for the next couple days. Tim was very weak, but he could sit up and drink some water before leaning over the side and throwing it all back up. So they just lay next to each other, their fingers barely touching.

Tim seemed to be getting better, but Damian did not have much progress. Dick had wagered that one or two of his ribs were broken, but Jason said that his slightly enhanced healing should take care of it soon.

So there was nothing more for Dick to do than to sit and wait it all out.

* * *

CHAPTER 8

Tim was only bedridden for a day. He woke up when Dick and Jason were halfway through dinner. Glancing around the room, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head, Tim's eyes landed on Damian, who's breathing was shallow, and inconsistent.

Tim groaned, stretching, and looking at Damian, he knew something was wrong. He could feel it too. Tim placed his hands on Damian's forehead and chest, feeling as Damian's wounds closed properly, his bruises fading and his bones stitching back up. When it was all said and done, Tim collapsed back onto the bed, unable to find any more energy to do much else but lie there.

However, before Damian drifted back to consciousness, Tim managed to drag himself out of the bed, out of the bedroom, before teleporting home.

He went straight to his room, and for the first time ever in his life, Tim wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, he did not have a bed, nor did he have the ability to actually sleep. After pacing his room several times, Tim leaves, his feet automatically carrying him towards the library.

He pushed open the heavy doors to the silent room and took a deep breath, glad that the musty smell of books was a constant in every library, in hell or on earth. He walked briskly between shelves until he found Connor.

Tim knew that Connor saw him, but he didn't show it, instead stubbornly flipping through the volume he had been looking through, taking down a few notes occasionally.

Tim approached, standing in front of Connor's table, and still, he did not look at Tim.

"Kon," Tim said, his voice cracking.

Connor finally raised his head slowly, his eyes flashing in the dimness. The yellow light of his light reflected off his eyes, making them look reddish. Tim winced internally.

"What." Connor snapped.

Tim couldn't take it anymore. The stupid bond! It was restricting his life, controlling it, and Tim couldn't do anything about it. He was trying to live his life normally, but it just wouldn't allow him to! A dry sob escaped Tim's lips and his shoulders shook.

Connor was up in a second, his arms wrapping around Tim. "I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I didn't mean to sound that angry, Tim."

Tim tightened his arms around Connor, not wanting to let go. "You have every right to be angry," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Kon. I didn't tell you everything."

"Shh," Connor rubbed his back soothingly. "You don't have to. Everyone has their secrets, Tim."

Tim shook his head. "No, you deserve to know." He swallowed, gesturing for Connor to sit back down. Connor took his seat, his face confused. Tim manifested a chair and sat down across from him. It took him a moment to collect himself before speaking. "I feel like I've been lying to you," he started, knowing it probably wasn't the smartest beginning. "I'm bonded."

Connor looked shocked, so Tim hurried to explain.

"It was an accident. I… I got in a fight with someone and ended up bonded to them. And, even worse, they're human." Tim couldn't look at Connor then.

"Was that why you left so quickly?" Connor asked, his voice not betraying any of his thoughts. Damn demons and their manipulation abilities.

Tim nodded miserably. "He got hurt, so consequently, I did too." Tim huffed sadly. "But I want nothing more than to get rid of this bond. It's- It's controlling my life, Kon. I feel like I have no free will anymore! I just wish- I wish it never happened. But I don't want you to think that I've been playing with your feelings or something!"

Connor's eyebrows rose slightly.

"I really do like you," Tim said softly. "A lot. I've never lied about that. I just hope… you can forgive me." There was a long stretch of silence. Tim's heart sank lower with each passing second. Finally, he spoke. "It's okay. I understand. Sorry, Connor." He stood and turned to go.

Connor grabbed his wrist from across the table. "No," he said. "Tim. I don't blame you for things you can't control. I just- I had an idea."

"For what?"

Connor shrugged. "I know it's never been done, but there's always a first, right? I think I know someone who can find some sort of way to help with your issue. I cannot guarantee anything, but…" he trailed off, looking into Tim's eyes.

Tim felt hope slowly bubbling up inside him. "I'll try anything," he said with relieved breath. "Thank you, Kon."

Connor smiled and pulled Tim forward, their faces inches away from each other. "Hm, really?"

Tim smiled as well, reaching up and cupping Connor's face before kissing him lightly. "Yeah."

"So who is this again?" Tim asked.

Connor had an arm around Tim's waist as they walked up towards the lone church on the hill. Gotham's skies were dark and cloudy again, but patchy. The sun was still straining to shine through the thick clouds, with little success. Mud squished until their feet, as they climbed the hill.

Connor hummed lightly, shoving his free hand deeper into his pocket. "A friend of mine," he said lightly.

Tim gave Connor a look. "You're friends with a priest? Bit ironic, don't you think?"

Connor laughed lightly, pulling Tim away from a nasty patch of mud. "A bit. I knew him, before I 'died'."

"Can't let go?"

Connor shrugged lightly, his breath forming little puffs of white. "He was my father, well, father figure. Obviously, he doesn't remember me anymore, the whole memory wiping thing that comes with making deals, but it's kind of hard to let go completely sometimes."

"Ah, I see. What about your brother? Are you watching over him still?" Tim asked as they approached the towering church.

Connor shook his head. "I used to. But then he saw me once, I think, and he gave me the weirdest look, like he knew me. So to avoid any trouble, I stayed away."

They stepped into the church, drying their feet at the door. Since it was a Tuesday, in the middle of the day, nobody was there. Tim glanced around the nave, over all the stained glass windows of angels. Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, the list went on. A large cross was on the opposite wall with the form of Jesus hanging on it.

Tim had never stepped foot in a church before, so he was quite taken by the building, even though it felt taboo.

"Can I help you?" A kind voice asked from behind them.

Both Connor and Tim turned. "Father Kent," Connor spoke, his face splitting into a grin.

The priest, Father Kent (why did that sound vaguely familiar?), walked over and shook Connor's hand.

"Cory, is it?" Father Kent asked. "It's good to see you again. And you've brought a friend."

Connor nodded, ignoring Tim's inquiring look about his fake name. "Yes, this is Tim."

Tim shook Father Kent's hand, half expecting to be burned. He was surprised when he didn't.

"So what can I do for you gentlemen?" Father Kent asked.

Connor grew serious. "You may want to sit down, Father Kent." The man looked a bit confused for a second but took a seat in one of the pews. Tim and Connor sat down in the pew in front of him. "You specialize in… demon-related things, right?" He asked slowly.

Father Kent nodded. "Yes, I do. Are you guys having troubles of some sort?"

Connor glanced quickly at Tim, who looked just as nervous. "Not as much," Tim said softly. "It's- It's actually me. I need to know how to break a demon bond."

Father Kent looked a bit shocked. "Sorry? A demon bond? Did you get bonded with a demon?"

Tim looked more uncomfortable. "Actually," he said with a weak laugh, preparing for the possibly spray of holy water in his face. "It's the other way around. I accidentally bonded with a human."

Father Kent's eyes narrowed, distrust quickly creeping into his eyes. "You're demons."

Tim nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Get out," Father Kent said coldly.

Tim looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Father Kent. I need your help."

Father Kent stood and he angrily pointed a finger at Tim. "I owe your kind nothing. It was one of your kind that took my nephew. You are nothing but evil scum of the earth-"

Connor stood. "Damn, I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. Thought he actually had forgotten," he muttered to himself before he stood between Tim and Father Kent. "Clark. Listen to me! Stop!" He snapped.

The priest stopped his angry ranting and glared at Connor evenly.

"You don't know the whole story," Connor said softly. "I haven't been completely honest with you." Father Kent scoffed at that. "About me. My name isn't Cory. I… My name is Connor."

There was a moment of silence. Then Connor went stumbling back, grunting. Father Kent had punched him.

"Don't you dare use him against me," Father Kent snarled. Tim felt a bit worried. For a priest, Father Kent seemed rather violent.

"I'm not!" Connor protested. "I'm telling the truth! I know you don't recognize me, but that's because they wiped your memory of me. But you have to believe me, please."

"I shouldn't believe anything either of you say."

"No, you have every right to distrust demons, but Clark. I don't think you know everything. Yes, I was taken by demons, but they didn't kidnap me," Connor said softly. Tim couldn't see what he looked like, but Tim knew what face went with that tone. "I did it to save Jon."

Father Kent was silent.

"When Jon was ten? He was horribly ill, right? I- I made a deal to saved his life," Connor admitted. He paused a moment. "How is he?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"How do I know you're not lying? I can't remember what Connor looked like. Or what he sounded like. I just… I just remember his name."

Connor sighed. "You aren't even supposed to remember my name. But neither was Jon. He dedicated his book to me, you know?" Tim could heard Connor's faraway look and fond smile.

Suddenly, Father Kent hugged Connor, who immediately hugged back. Tim felt a little awkward, but he let the two reunite. Then Connor pulled away. "So please help Tim."

Father Kent, looked back at Tim, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "Breaking a bond, you say? Isn't that supposed to be impossible?"

Tim shrugged. "Apparently. But there has to be a way. Somehow. Even if it halfway or something."

"I'll see what I can do," Father Kent finally said. "But I don't want you guys showing up at my church anymore. He produced a pen and a scrap of paper from his pocket. Then, he wrote something on it, giving it to Connor. "Once a week. No more."

Connor nodded. "Thank you, Clark," Connor said.

Tim nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, thank you, thank you. So much, Father Kent."

Father Kent looked a little unhappy about it, but he gruffly said, "Clark. Now go," he said.

Tim and Connor hurried out of the church, and Tim grabbed Clark, teleporting home right away, and he couldn't stop grinning. Finally, things might be starting to look up.

* * *

Meanwhile, Damian finally came to.

He was still feeling quite sore everywhere, but he was okay. Dick had been bustling around him all morning, asking if he needed food, water, if anything hurt, if he needed help with getting things.

When Damian snapped at Dick, Dick just sighed.

Dick sat down at the foot of Damian's bed. "I think we should talk, Damian," Dick said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay, talk," Damian said sourly, his mood horrible, as always.

Dick took a deep breath. "I've recently realized that I barely know anything about you. We've been friends for two years, and you know almost everything about me from what I do day in and day out, but I know next to nothing about you, Damian. What's with that? Do you really close yourself off from people that much?"

Damian snorted. "That's what's gotten you so worked up? You just never asked, is all."

"I have too asked! You never answer me directly and you distract me from the topic at hand, and I forget all about it!" Dick said, affronted. "So I'm going to sit here and neither of us are leaving this room until you answer all my questions."

Damian sighed heavily. "Seriously? Must we do this now? I'm kinda hungry."

Dick narrowed his eyes at Damian. "See? There you go again. Usually, I would've gone to get you food and the topic would be dropped. You'll talk sooner or later."

"Fine," Damian said with a roll of his eyes. "I promise, my life isn't all that interesting."

"How did you become the Batman?" Damian asked. "You said it was two years ago right? There wasn't a Batman before that, so something must've prompted you to do this."

Damian shrugged. "Gotham is my city. I want to protect it."

"You're lying. There's more," Dick said, his face impassive. "I can tell when you're lying now, Damian."

"Oh, right," Damian said sarcastically. "Demon powers, right? Us humans can't compare you to you anymore."

"Just answer the question."

Damian was silent for a while before he finally gritted out. "My father."

"What about your father."

"He influenced me."

"How so?" Dick asked. "You might as well just get out with it. Save us both some time."

Damian glared at Dick. "Fine. But nothing leaves this room, got it? You don't tell anyone. It's my business to tell. That means no Jason, no Tim, and no one else, even if your life depended on it."

Dick nodded, crossing his heart, and Damian snorted at that action. Then his eyes softened and he looked out his bedroom window at the cloudy sky.

"I'm not from here," Damian finally said, his voice quiet and vulnerable.

"So… like an alien?"

Damian shook his head. "No, another universe, I think. This- This isn't my world. I had another home, another world, another Gotham. I had a family and friends. You are there, but you aren't _you._ You were Dick Grayson, orphan son of acrobats, adopted son of Bruce Wayne, my father."

"Wait," Dick shook his head and held his hand up. "So there's a parallel universe out there? Or multiple? Holy shit. And you're Bruce's son?"

Damian nodded. "Jason is second oldest of us boys. There were a lot of girls too, but I was never quite as close with them. Anyway, Jason, he's the black sheep of the family, but strangely loyal. He never really got along with me and Bruce, but he was close with the rest of you. He died… then came back to life. But we all did at some point," he chuckled weakly, eyes faraway now. "Tim was next. He was super smart, and I think everyone liked him except for me. But now, I don't even remember why I hated him so much. Tim was more of Bruce's son than I ever was in the eyes of the public. He had a bad habit of falling asleep at the most inconvenient times."

Dick blinked, trying to absorb all the information. It was quite overwhelming.

"Then there was me. If Jason wasn't already the weird one, I certainly would be. I was raised in the League of Assassins, taught how to kill in the most effective ways since I could walk. And for the first ten years of my life, I thought the League was my home. Then my mother took me to Gotham and to Bruce. I was thrust into a new family, a new life, a new environment. I didn't get along with anyone and tried to make everyone's life hard. But do you know who got through to me first? It was you." Damian sighed.

"How long did it take?" Dick asked.

Damian shrugged. "A year maybe. I didn't make it easy for you or anyone. I was a brat."

"Still are," Dick muttered.

"I heard that," Damian said, but without any heat. "Then, I slowly started making friends. I had the Teen Titans, I had Pennyworth, Batcow, Goliath, Titus and a ton of other pets over the years. I had Jon, I had you and Jason and Tim. Then… when I was seventeen, something went wrong on a mission and I fell through a portal into this world.

"Therefore, I was uprooted from my home again. But here, I had no one. I was so lost. When I realized that it would be a lot harder to return on my own, I realized how much I appreciated my family and friends. And as time passed, I started building a more permanent place to stay. I searched for people I knew in my other world, but none of them here were who I thought they would be. I found you first. But you seemed happy with your life, so I didn't bother you."

"But I still met you, didn't I?" Dick asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Damian nodded. "It was purely a coincident. That was my third day as Batman. It had been half a year since I came to this world, and I always had someone to help me set my arm, or stitch up my cuts, or carry me back to the Batcave when I went unconscious. But here? I was truly alone."

Dick put his hand on Damian's leg. "Oh, Dami…"

Damian shook his head. "I survived, didn't I? I built myself a life of sorts here, but I am always ready to up and leave and go back home. I didn't lose hope. I know that Bruce wouldn't stop looking for me. Between the four of them, they would find something. And I would do the same on this side."

"It's been two years already?" Dick as quietly. "And I never knew. You shouldn't have been going through that alone."

Damian's eyes grew hard as he turned back to Dick. "Do you know how hard it was for me when I was pulled from my home the first time? Then the second time? It was horrible. I didn't know anyone. I didn't have anyone. I missed everyone so fucking much it nearly drove me crazy. What do you think would happen if I got close to people here? And then I would have to leave? I can't do that, Dick."

Dick looked heartbroken. "Is that why?" He whispered. "Is that why you don't open yourself up to people? Why you always pretend you don't care, and you pretend you hate everyone and pushing them away? Damian, it's always better to have someone than no one at all."

Damian didn't say anything.

"Damian?"

The other man shook his head. "It doesn't matter anyways. You're like a mom anyway, Jason goes wherever you go, and Tim doesn't even like me. You can do whatever you want. But I'm going to protect myself this time, for once."

Damian scooted out of bed, and walked slowly towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at the door. "You can show yourself out whenever, Dick."

And then he left, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

* * *

CHAPTER 9

Clark's life hasn't always been smooth sailing, as life always is, but he had also never had a dilemma like this before.

In his house, Clark was pouring over books on demon lore, calling friends, going on the internet – it was hard work.

And so far, there was nothing. Reliable information on demons were hard to find, even more so on their very sacred customs, and pretty much none on how to break a demon bond. So after many sleepless nights, Clark felt ready to give up.

He set his glasses aside, rubbing his face and yawning loudly. He looked down at his book, the words looking like tiny ants on the page. He was way too tired for this. So he leaned over and rested his head in his arms, and he was out in a few minutes.

As Clark snored, the small lamp on his desk was turned off by an invisible hand. A coat was draped over Clark's shoulders, and his half-empty cup of cold coffee was moved into the kitchen, so he wouldn't accidentally knock it over as he slept.

A cold breeze moved through the room.

Then it was gone.

* * *

 _Tim._

Tim looked up from his reading, surprised to see Bruce hovering in the doorway of his room. "Yeah?"

 _We need to talk._

Tim's brows furrowed. "About what?" Bruce swept inside the room, the door slamming closed behind him. Tim set the book aside, sensing that it was important.

 _What are you reading?_ Bruce asked.

Tim frowned. "It's nothing. Just some pleasure reading, why? Is there something wrong?"

 _Yes, something is wrong,_ Bruce said coldly. _You're bonded, is what's wrong._

Tim swallowed hard. He couldn't deny it now. "So you found out. How?"

Bruce's shadows grew a bit more threatening. _How? I happen to know that priest you asked to help you._

"How would you know Clark?" Tim asked, genuinely confused. "No…" his eyes widened at his realization. "It's not… him? Is it? That's Kon's father!"

 _I realize that,_ Bruce said. _What I'm more concerned about is the fact that you revealed your situation to a human you barely knew before me._

Tim sighed. "Yes, I realize that might be a bit offending, but what could you actually do, Bruce? I don't want this bond. I'm trying to break it."

 _Bonds can't be broken. It is why you shouldn't have messed around with it. Who is it with? Konelipztch?_

"No. A human man," Tim said, wincing slightly. "It was an accident, I swear."

Bruce's red eyes narrowed. _Your Father will be very angry when he finds out._

"Don't tell him, please!" Tim said, his eyes wide. "I'll fix this somehow. I'll figure this out, just- just give me time. Please."

 _But if he asks, I will not hide the information from him,_ Bruce finally said. _For now, your secret is safe. But your situation is dangerous at the moment. You need to stay in hell. You cannot get hurt here, and Konelipztch will watch over you. Meanwhile, we will find this human of yours and bring him here. We can turn him._

Tim shook his head quickly. "No! You can't do that!" He growled. "You didn't even ask what I wanted. I don't want that! I'm trying to break the bond for a reason."

 _The bond cannot be broken, Thixmyghr. We must do what we can. You must rule hell, so this human must become a demon. There is no other way._

"There is always another way," Tim said stubbornly. "And I will find it. You can't control my life like that, Bruce. There's always another choice, and I won't having you pick my choices like that." Tim was feeling angry, but he knew better than to blow up in Bruce's face like he wanted to. "You can't."

With that, Tim teleported out of his room, straight to Damian's penthouse. He was a bit surprised that it was there that he chose to go.

Tim found Damian in the room for his cat. He knocked lightly on the door before entering. Damian was sitting in the middle of the room, rolling a ball back and forth to his cat. Damian only half glances up when Tim enters.

"Hey," Tim started.

Damian didn't answer.

"I- I came to apologize," Tim said quietly.

"Don't bother. Tell Dick to stop trying."

Tim furrowed his eyebrows. "What did Dick do?"

Damian looked at him. "Dick didn't ask you to come here?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I came to apologize, I told you."

"Oh." Damian stroked his black cat, listening to its thick purrs of delight. "What are you apologizing for?"

Tim sighed. "You said that we were controlling your life. I didn't get it then, but I do now. I know how you feel and I'm sorry we did that. I realized that I'm not the only one that this bond affects negatively."

Damian was quiet for a bit. He didn't say that he forgave Tim, but he did say, "The enhanced healings a plus, though." And somehow, Tim knew that he'd been forgiven.

"So we're good?" Tim asked for conformation.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Yes. We're good, Tim."

Tim smiled a little. "Good."

"Good."

"Okay, I'm going to go now."

"You do that."

A pause. "Bye, Damian."

"Good-bye."

"Okay."

And Tim left, feeling a lot lighter than before.

* * *

CHAPTER 10

The week dragged by slowly, and Tim and Connor were standing in front of a restaurant, waiting for Clark to show up.

When he finally did, he was wearing a dark pea coat and shades over his eyes, even though it was almost night time. But it was Gotham. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

"Connor, Tim," Clark greeted.

"Clark," Tim said with a small smile. "Thank you for meeting us. Did you find anything?"

Clark nodded. "I think so."

Tim's heartbeat sped up. "Really?"

Clark looked around and took half a step closer. "There's a spell. It's a spell for angels, originally. Apparently, angels have a similar bonding kind of thing. There was a spell to unbind the spell, but I think if I tweaked the spell enough, it could work for you. However, this spell only works on one day of the year. And if I were to tweak the spell, I do think it would only work on Halloween."

Tim's jaw dropped before he could stop it. "That's seven months from now!"

Clark glared at him slightly. "Yes, I realize that," he said. "But do you want to break this bond or not?"

Tim sighed. "Okay. So what do we have to do?"

Clark looked at Tim and then Connor. "We?"

Connor shrugged, so Clark didn't say anything else.

"Well, _we_ are going to prepare and gather materials and wait until October. There isn't much else to do. I will work on translating the spell completely and alter it to fit your needs. Even that will take several weeks," Clark sighed, thinking of the nights he'd have to spend up. "I will meet you here again, same time, in two weeks to give you an update."

Tim nodded. "Okay, thank you again, Clark."

Clark nodded and turned to Connor. "Take care," he said in a softer tone. "And Jon's good. He's good."

Connor smiled. "Thanks, Clark."

* * *

Over the course of the next couple of months, Tim worked out a schedule of sorts. During the day, sometimes he'd spend it with Connor, sometimes with Bruce and his Father, sometimes with Jason and Dick (and Damian, but rarely). At night, however, Tim cleared his schedule completely for one thing and one thing only.

Every night, Tim would don his own, homemade costume of black and red, and he would follow the Bat around Gotham. At first, Damian had been rather annoyed, telling Tim to fuck off on multiple occasions. But then, he stopped.

Now, Tim fights beside Damian, letting go of his stress by beating up people that were doing unlawful things, though Tim had brought up that what Damian did kind of counted as illegal as well.

Tim even earned himself a name. Red Robin. Damian had been rather reluctant about calling Tim that, but he finally relented because he could not come up with any other suitable names.

And Tim even saved Damian on a few occasions.

Once, a rather quick criminal had knocked Damian's grapple gun from his hand and Damian's cape had been torn to shreds earlier that night. So Tim watched with wide eyes as Damian fell over the side of the building. Tim (who was not allowed to teleport while on patrol with Damian) jumped off the building after him, letting go of the criminal he had nearly caught. He dove after Damian, shooting his own grapple and catching Damian. When they landed on the opposite building, they were pressed chest to chest, breathing hard. Then Damian grunted his thanks and pushed Tim away.

Another time, Damian had been captured, and the thugs decided it would be a good idea to dip the Bat into a vat of chemicals (when Tim brought it up later, Damian had been rather snappish about the incident). When Tim found him, the ears of the cowl were only a couple inches from the surface of the boiling liquid. The thugs came at Tim, and in the fight, the reel holding Damian above the chemicals broke. Tim had to leapt across, tackling Damian out of the way as the entire machine came crashing down into the chemicals, a couple men falling in as well. Tim had landed on top of Damian, covering the man's body with his own. There was an explosion, and Damian had been knocked unconscious, so Tim teleported them back to the penthouse, and Tim had just managed to lay Damian down before he collapsed beside him, head resting on the bat symbol on Damian's chest.

It wasn't often that Damian needed saving, so Tim reveled in those memories, sometimes bringing them up and rubbing them in Damian's face.

Another month passed similarly. Tim found himself rather comfortable around Damian. They were like a well-oiled machine. They didn't need to speak aloud to know what the other wanted or needed. It helped a lot at night on patrol, saving both of them a lot of cuts, stitches and medical supplies.

When Dick had commented on it, he got glares from both Damian and Tim, simultaneously.

Tim also noticed that a lot of his books had been moved into Damian's study, which the man rarely used. Tim had also taken a special liking to the technology in Damian's penthouse.

It started with the often unused laptop in the study. Tim had turned it on one day, and after asking Damian about it, and Damian spent a couple hours showing him how to use the device. Tim spent the rest of the day figuring it out for himself, enjoying the challenge.

Once he had mastered the laptop, Damian took him into a hidden room in his penthouse. There was a larger computer there, with a lot more capabilities than the simple laptop. Tim spent a lot more time there, sometimes forgetting the time and not leaving all day.

That computer occupied Tim for a much longer time, three weeks.

It wasn't long before Tim could work it better than Damian, who had already taught Tim everything he knew. Tim started developing his own tech, adding on to Damian's computer.

Little did Tim know, whenever Tim got super absorbed in the computer, Damian would sometimes stand in the doorway and just watch him work with a fond smile. A couple times a day, Damian would bring Tim coffee and listen to Tim explain what he had added to the computer. Damian didn't understand half of it, but Tim was super excited, so he just listened and pretended.

Tim started cutting back on his daytime duties just to get the maximum amount of time he could at Damian's. He would go home late, sometimes as late as ten in the morning, when he should've met Bruce at nine. Then, he would leave early, around five, apologizing to Connor, kissing him quickly and then rushing off to earth again.

Jason teased him endlessly about this, saying that he was becoming a workaholic and he hadn't even taken the throne yet. And when in private, Jason would tease him for harboring a _crush_ on Damian.

Tim laughed at the absurdity.

* * *

CHAPTER 11

It happened one night while Damian was on patrol. He had only been hopping around the building for about an hour before Tim popped in.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Tim said, his cape fluttering down behind him. He sounded breathless.

Damian grunted his acknowledgement.

"I was working late," Tim said. "Lost track of time. It's really hard converting hell's time into time on earth. And it's also hard to keep track of all the time zones, I mean, hell only has one time zone, and as far as I know, it's practically infinite."

Damian shot a line across to a nearby building. "You talk too much," he growled as he jumped off.

A moment later, Tim rejoined him. "So what's up tonight?"

Damian's eyes scanned the area. "I heard rumors of there being illegal imports at the old docks, but it's supposed to happen before after midnight. I'm just making my necessary rounds as of now."

Tim hummed. "Want me to go to the docks now and keep an eye out? So if anything were to happen before midnight, I'll let you know."

Damian thought about it. It had been a rather slow night, so it wouldn't really hurt. "Okay," he said.

Tim smiled. "And if anything were to happen to you, you'll let me know too, right?"

Damian didn't answer.

" _Right?_ "

Damian glared at him.

"Okay, demon powers include the ability to read people well, but I can't _actually_ read you mind, okay? So I would expect a physical answer like, 'Yes, Red. I will let you know if I need your assistance. Now fuck off and leave me alone to brood in the dark.'"

Damian still didn't say anything, but Tim could feel that he was mildly annoyed yet slightly endeared. "Alright, alright then. I'll be off!" He saluted Damian and leapt off the building. Damian heard a whoop as Tim disappeared towards the docks.

He sighed. "Dick's rubbing off on him," he muttered to himself before shoot off to another building.

Half an hour later, Damian heard the crackling of the comms. "Hey, Batman. Something's happening here. You might wanna swing your way over or something. There's a ship arriving and its got its lights and motor cut."

Damian cursed silently. He wasn't anywhere near the docks. "Can you distract them long enough for me to get there? I'm kind of far away."

Tim hummed lightly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Red, don't-" Damian cursed as he was cut off. "Damn it, Tim." He started towards the docks, hoping Tim had enough sense than to charge right into there alone and without back up.

It took Damian ten minutes to reach the docks, and he was breaking out in a light sweat and panting by the time he did. He spotted the dark boat that Tim had mentioned, but there was no movement on it. A single light was on in the boat.

Damian landed silently on top of the boat, feeling as it rocked gently in the waves. He slipped into the wheelhouse. Two men were leaning against each other on the ground, unconscious. Damian slid down into the open hatch next, landing silently in the hull. A single light bulb was swinging back and forth with the rocking of the boat.

Unconscious bodies littered the ground. There were some obviously broken bones and some nasty bruises. A large crate was secured to the floor of the hull, and Red Robin was sitting on top of it, using one of the portable devices he had recently invented.

Damian sighed. "I said distraction."

Tim shrugged, not looking up as he scrolled through his holographic images. "I know. I distracted myself. It was getting boring sitting there." He looked up, blinking at Damian's frown. "Ooh! You meant to distract _them_!" He grinned, and Damian knew that he had understood perfectly the first time. "Sorry," Tim said, not at all sounding apologetic.

Damian walked towards the crate, nudging Tim off. "Weapons?"

Tim nodded, tucking his device away. "Yeah. Highly illegal, as you expected. But I think these people were just pawns. They obviously had no idea how dangerous this weapon is."

Damian looked at Tim surprised. "And you do?"

Tim shrugged. "I scanned it while waiting for you to get here. I need to get you a faster mean of transportation. Those grapple guns are just not going to cut it for emergencies. Anyway, there's is a suspiciously high level of VX, a chemical used to basically jack up a person's nervous system and kill them. It's incased in this military grade metal that had to have been specially developed. There's some more things in there, but basically, it's rather unstable. If one were to crack open the metal, who knows what's going to happen."

Damian had to admit, he was surprised. "And you deducted all of this in the ten minutes it took me to get here."

Tim shrugged, trying to play it off cool, but Damian could feel that he was kind of smug. "What can I say, I'm a natural at this vigilante stuff."

Damian scoffed. "You've been spending way too much time with Dick and Jason. C'mon, let's get these guys tied up and leave them for the police department. And we'll take the weapon with us. Can't trust the police with that."

Tim perked up. "Can I work with it?"

"Why would you want that?" Damian shook his head. "Don't bother. Keep it."

As they tied up the goons, a thought flitted through his mind. For the briefest moment, it was there, but it left Damian with a shiver down his spine. Not only was he actually getting used to Tim, but he _respected_ him.

Sure he was somewhat of an idiot, a bit of Dick, a bit of Jason, but he was smart and a hard worker. He always manages to surprise him somehow. There was a painful lurch in Damian's heart, a brief moment of longing. Then he shook himself and banished those thoughts away. Those were weaknesses. And one person's weakness could be another's strength.

Damian didn't have weaknesses, and Batman certainly didn't have weaknesses.

A couple days later, Damian was working on his supercomputer, trying to keep himself busy. Because when he wasn't busy, certain thoughts started creeping into his mind. Thoughts about his family and friends, thoughts about their counterparts here. And even worse were the _feelings_ that came with said thoughts. Ugh, Damian hated the feelings. A pain that painkillers would not take away.

Ever since he had told Dick about his past, he had been thinking more and more about it as well. It had been hard for him to open up, like scratching at old scars until they split open again. Now, Damian couldn't stop picking at them. Several times now, Tim had been giving him weird looks, and Damian could feel his confusion.

While he knew that they weren't on the level of camaraderie where Tim would ask what was wrong, he could not stop Tim from wondering and trying to find out by himself. He didn't like that Tim was digging into his personal life, but unfortunately, they had crossed that line when Damian purposely picked a fight with him at the grocery store nearly almost half a year ago.

He regretted it, sort of.

For two years, Dick had been the only familiar face he'd seen. And even then, he didn't see Dick that often. Damian had closed himself off from the world, and he had pretty much given up hope on ever returning home.

Until he saw Tim.

In that moment, so many things ran through Damian's mind. He nearly convinced himself he had been dreaming. After two years? What were the chances of running into someone familiar again, in the cereal aisle of some store in the middle of Gotham?

And despite his original rule not to meddle with the lives of others, Damian couldn't help but allow himself a little leeway. He approached Tim, and grabbed the box of cereal he had been reaching for.

Damian had half expected for the person to be someone who only looked like Tim. But it was him. He was younger than what Damian remembered, maybe twenty five or something. And he was shorter than Damian. But other than that, he was the same Timothy Drake that Damian grew up hating.

His heart had been beating so loudly and his breathing was labored then. He argued with the man that looked like Tim, and somehow ended up in a fight with him.

It was exhilarating. Damian hadn't wanted to create a scene, but to be hit that hard again by someone familiar, it felt good. Had Damian not have been an emotionless person, he probably would've started crying.

Until he crashed into the metal shelves and broken a rib, Damian would have called that day one of the best days of his life in that damned world.

And then, of course, he finds that they're all demons and had also taken Dick to their side.

But aside from that, Damian had grown to think of them as the closest people he had come to know in this world.

Basically, his whole plan had gone to shit and Damian was slowly falling apart from the emotional trauma he was causing himself.

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. A cup of coffee was set down next to his arm. Damian blinked at it and looked up surprised. Tim stood there with his own cup of coffee, staring intently at the holographic screen.

"Do you like the new additions?" he asked.

Damian cleared his throat. "Yeah. They're quite helpful."

Tim frowned a little. "I still need to work out a couple bugs in the programming, but it should be no big deal." Then his eyes slid to something sticking out under a pile of papers. "What's this?" He pulled out a paperback book, well worn, but also well taken care of. " _Pride and Prejudice?_ " Tim smirked. "Didn't know you liked British romance novels."

Damian growled at him and snatched the book away. "It's not a romance novel."

Tim chuckled. "Whatever you say, Batman."

Damian tucked the book away carefully in the seat next to him. He quickly checked to make sure Tim hadn't lost his page.

There was a moment of silence, then Tim said quietly, "I was more of a _Romeo and Juliet_ person."

Damian's eyebrows shot up. He couldn't help himself. Then he laughed quietly. "You don't seem the type."

"Neither do you."

"Tt."

Tim straightened and lightly slapped Damian on the shoulder. "Well, I need to go. Connor's expecting me, but I'm coming to lunch today. Tell Jason to tone down on the spiciness. He's been really interested in adding ridiculously hot peppers and chilies to his food these days."

"Will do."

Tim hung up his costume, gave Damian a mocking salute before teleporting away. As he walked briskly down the hallway of the palace, he felt Damian go to bed and falling asleep. It was an uneasy sleep, which made Tim a bit worried, but Damian had always been a light sleeper.

Then the realization made him stop in his tracks. When had he started noticing this stuff? It had been a gradual change, but it was almost alarming now that he realized it. He had subconsciously taken note of things about Damian that were practically insignificant.

He knew that Damian pretended to takes his coffee black, but he actually like it more with half a teaspoon of sugar. He knew that Damian really loved watching movies, especially action and horror movies – the more gore, the better. Damian hated vegetables, and would always complain loudly when Dick reprimanded him. He even knew that Damian secretly loved large, fuzzy sweaters, but he didn't own a single one.

More so, Tim didn't actually mind Damian anymore. It was a comfort to know that despite all the craziness in his life at the moment, there was one thing that was constant. Damian and the rush of wind in his face as they toured the skylines of Gotham each night.

They made an unstoppable team, their ability to reach each other's body language impeccable.

Tim looked up at the towering doors of the library, where Connor was mostly likely sitting inside, reading up on demon bonds and trying to figure out how to break them.

Before, Tim had entered the room with excitement, wanting to ask if he had found out any new information.

But today? Tim was hesitant, apprehensive, and a little unwilling.

And it honestly scared him.

* * *

CHAPTER 12

The bond didn't bother Tim all that much anymore. Sure, he had the strangest urges to want to sleep, despite his inability to, but it was not that annoying. He had come to term with the bond, and it was not the worst thing in the world. After all, he could have ended up bonded to a rock or something.

And just as he started to make peace with himself over that, Tim realized something else.

If he broke this bond with Damian, he would have no valid reason to keep seeing Damian. And scary as it was, Tim was starting to _like_ Damian. The man allowed him to screw around with his expensive ass technology and make changes as he saw fit. He could make the perfect cup of coffee, and he also had the complete works of William Shakespeare in his library. Not to mention, his bed was really comfortable.

Tim didn't have a bed, and he didn't lie in beds often to test them out or anything, but Tim was pretty sure no bed could beat Damian's. Unfortunately, he had only experienced it one time, and he definitely was not appreciating it at that moment.

On top of that, Tim enjoyed Damian's company.

Sure, Damian was a man of little words at most times, but when Tim did get him to talk, he often had some interesting things to say. He was smart and quick, something Tim found that Jason and Dick often lacked. Damian challenged Tim to some level, even though he was human.

But at the same time, Damian was an emotional mess. He rarely showed that he had any feelings of any kind, and without the bond, Tim would have concluded firmly that the man didn't. But the bond allowed Tim to see a side of Damian that no one else ever did. He kept things to himself and did not allow anyone inside.

And over the past week, Damian was showing signs of more emotional stress than usual. And Tim was starting to think it was rubbing off on him as well.

That night, after patrol, Tim stayed a little later than usual, pacing up and down the halls of Damian's penthouse. Damian had gone to sleep, and he seemed a tiny bit calmer than usual, but it could've been compared to Tim's anxiety levels.

Finally, Tim broke down and called Dick, telling him to meet him at Damian's.

Dick showed up moments later, his hair a bit rumpled, his clothes slightly askew. Tim didn't ask, and Dick didn't share.

He just sat Tim down in the library and sat across from him, waiting for Tim to start.

"I don't know if I want to break the bond anymore," he blurted out.

If Dick found it surprising, he didn't show it. "Okay, so don't."

Tim breathed out shakily. "But at the same time, I think it might be best if I do. I mean, we haven't even found a sure solution yet, just theories, but it's looking more and more possible. Damian knows that I've been searching for a cure of sorts, so I can't just spring this on him like this. I haven't quite been giving him any updates, so he doesn't know how possible it is yet, but he has hope. And I don't want for him to lose it."

Dick frowned a little. "I think this is something you need to talk over to Damian."

Tim nodded. "I know. But I just wanted some emotional guidance first, if you will."

Dick sighed. "Okay. I'm no psychologist or anything, but I'll try my best. Do you think it's possible to break the bond?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. It's looking more promising as time goes on. Halloween will be here in three months, and I need to make a choice then. I'm supposed to take the throne four months after that. And I need to find someone to rule with by then as well."

"So say you don't break the bond, then what?"

Tim shrugged helplessly. "Then… if it comes down to it, Damian needs to become a demon. And unless he sells his soul and skips over the torture process, it could take another century of pain, blood and torture."

Dick cocked his head to the side. "But I didn't go through that."

"You already had demon blood in you, Dick. All you needed was the awakening process. Damian has to go from scratch," Tim said sadly. "But since he won't be a demon immediately, I would be bonded to him _while_ he goes through the torturing process, which will be no fun for me, not to mention, it will interfere with me taking the throne."

Dick nodded slowly, seeming to understand. "So you're saying there's no way you can stay bonded with him."

Tim shook his head.

"Why do you want to keep the bond so bad, then?" Dick finally asked, his voice soft.

Tim froze. He had been skirting around the question himself, never really thinking about it though. However, when Dick asked it, he was finally forced to face the reality of it all. Why? Tim's heart was beating loudly and he palms started clamming up.

Then, the door behind him opened and someone shuffled in. Dick looked up and over Tim's shoulder.

"Dami? What's wrong?" Dick asked.

Damian walked into Tim's peripheral vision. He was carrying a large mug of steaming coffee in his hands. He handed it to Tim and yawned. "Couldn't sleep. He was too worked up about something." He turned to go, stumbling his way back to his bedroom.

Tim sat there frozen, the hot mug burning his hands, but he couldn't feel it. In the moonlight, Damian had looked different.

He had none of the angry lines he possessed while awake, his face soft and tired. Creases from his pillows were pressed into his cheek. His hair was a delightful mess, sticking up all directions. Tim had only seen Damian in silk pajamas before, long sleeved shirt and pants. But just then, Damian was only wearing a large t-shirt. He didn't know where he had ever found a shirt that looked big on even him, but it fell to the middle of his thigh, and there was a faded logo on the shirt. Tim vaguely made out a Ferris wheel and carnival tents. The words were too faded to read in the moonlight.

But damn. Damian's legs were long and muscled. As he walked, they moved with a fluidity that could only be achieved by runway models. And when he yawned, he sounded soft and gentle. His voice had been scratchy and rough from sleep, and it sent shivers down Tim's spine.

His eyes had been half lidded, the green darker and more dull. But most of all, Tim had thought that Damian looked beautiful.

"Tim? Tim!" Dick snapped his fingers a couple times. "You okay?" He asked, concerned. "You zoned out there for a while. Seemed a million miles away."

Tim cleared his throat, nodding quickly. Heat burned his cheeks as he quickly took a sip of his coffee. It was delicious, just like what Damian looked. Tim took another sip, hoping Dick wouldn't catch his blush in the darkness, especially now that he had enhanced senses.

"Again," Dick said. "I think this is something you should work out with Damian. I promise, he's not as scary as he seems. I think you scare him as much as he scares you."

"I'm not scared of him," Tim said. At least, until what he just saw, a whole other side to Damian that he bond didn't even reveal.

Dick smiled kindly. "Maybe not physically, but I still think there's some things about him that make you afraid. Maybe is what he reminds you of, or what he represents for you. Anyway, I think we should get going. Bruce knocked an hour ago, asking if we'd seen you."

Tim set down the half-finished cup of coffee. "Yeah, okay."

Dick set a hand on his shoulder. "It will be okay. Everything will work you, Tim. I know it."

* * *

CHAPTER 13

"I have come up with something."

Tim twiddled his thumbs nervously, something he'd picked up from Dick. Damn his human habits. He looked at Clark expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.

"It's… not ideal, however, I'm assuming."

Tim's heart sank a little. But he still wanted to know what Clark had come up with.

"I know time is running out, and there are still holes in this plan and everything. But… I do believe there is a way. It's less of a spell to break a bond, but I think that the process will sever the bond…" Clark trailed off, folding his hands, sighing deeply.

"Okay! Just tell me!" Tim finally burst out.

Clark flinched slightly. Right, not a fan of demons.

Clark cleared his throat. "I found a spell that can make you human."

Tim choked on his breath. "Sorry?"

"I mean, it's temporary," Clark assured. "Humans don't have bonds, so if you became human, assuming I'm correct, the bond will be broken."

Tim soaked it in silently. He had to be turned human. Why would he ever want to be human? "Um, I don't know if Connor ever told you this, but I'm up next to rule hell? Which means that I need to be a demon for that. Heh, no one' s going to let a human rule hell."

Clark's lips thinned at the reminder of who he was working with. "Yes, but I'm not wrong, there's a process to turn human souls into demons, no?"

"A half-blood!" Tim squeaked.

Clark's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong with a half-blood? Can they not rule? I thought your Father was a half-blood."

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with half-bloods. It's just. Humans take centuries to be tortured into demons. Not to mention, as a pure-blood, I'm luckily strong. My Father is a very exceptional half-blood. He has natural power and no one questions him because of it. If I become some weaker, lesser half-blood, I won't be fit to rule. Hell will riot against me. It will end up in a full blown civil war."

Clark opened his mouth. Then closed it. "Oh. I see. Then how did Connor…?"

Tim coughed. "Selling your soul is an immediate, painless transformation."

"Then sell your soul."

Tim looked at Clark like he was crazy. "Are you kidding?" Clark looked nervously towards the door. "If I were to sell my soul, assuming that a demon turned human _has_ a soul at all, the demon that _buys_ my soul has complete control over me. I would be shackled to them forever. They have control over everything I do, they can kill me with a snap of their fingers. That is the last thing I will do."

"And Connor?"

Tim sighed. "From what I know, the demon that bought his soul died."

Clark seemed to relax. Tim found it kind of ironic. Clark's "son" is a demon, Clark is a pastor, and he still cares about him, despite what he wants Tim to think about demons.

"So becoming human is out of the question?" Clark asked.

Tim took a deep breath. "It's all I've got right now, so. Definitely not the ideal solution, as you said." Tim thought for a moment. "Will you still keep looking?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah. I'll keep looking." He sighed deeply. It was sure was a long process.

Tim is feeling rather upset, but at least he knew it wasn't completely hopeless.

* * *

Tim teleported back to Damian's place. Night was approaching, and he promised to join his them all for dinner. He still did not quite understand human's need or love for food, but he has developed a slight affection for Italian food, particularly pizza.

And Jason promised homemade pizza.

When Tim stepped over the threshold of Damian's door, he was tackled by Dick in a large hug.

"TIMMY!"

Tim took a step back with a surprised grunt. "Um…?"

Dick quickly pulled Tim towards the southern end of the penthouse, away from the aromatic scents of baking pizza and breadsticks. Tim glanced towards the kitchen longingly, where Jason was singing loudly and Damian was yelling at him to shut the hell up.

They ducked into a guest room and Dick closed the door.

"What?" Tim asked.

"So tomorrow is Damian's birthday."

Tim blinked. "Tomorrow? As in, in seven hours tomorrow?"

Dick nodded. "And we're planning a surprise party for him."

Tim laughed. "For Damian? You know that he probably won't appreciate it, right?"

"Why not?"

"He's not a… surprise kind of person."

Tim could see that Dick's excitement slowly draining out of him, like an air slowly being out of a balloon. "Oh."

Tim quickly fumbled to reassure Dick. "But I'm sure he'll appreciate it a lot more coming from you!"

Dick smiled weakly. "Are you sure?"

Tim smiled and nodded. "Of course! You're his best friend! Even if he hates it, he will _pretend._ "

Dick's grin grew. "You're right. Well, just get him a present and come by around six to help set up. I'll have one of his acquaintances going keeping him busy for the day. Then, by the time he gets home and is ready to go on patrol…" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Party time."

Tim snorts. "Alright. Okay, I'll be here. Can we go eat pizza now? Before Damian devours it all. You know, I'm starting to think he's actually not human. When he does eat, he _eats._ "

Dick agreed solemnly. "Yes, let's go. I'm dying to try Jason's pizza."

* * *

Tim spent the next day browsing stores, wondering what Damian would like. Maybe he should get him a rare weapon of sorts, but Damian probably wouldn't use it anyways. He likes his fists and his katana.

Tim also didn't know if Damian like alcohol either, so that was off the list. In fact, the more Tim thought about it, the less he felt that he actually _knew_ about Damian. Sure, he could go ask him what he likes, but Tim didn't want to ruin Dick's surprise.

In all honesty, Tim did not know how the whole human birthday thing worked. Demons didn't celebrate "birthdays" mostly because demons didn't have births. So Tim had read up on everything he could about birthdays after Damian had gone to bed after their nightly patrol, and it was a tradition for humans to have a celebratory event of some sort on the day of their births, which just sounded horrible to Tim. Why would anyone celebrate the day they popped out of their mothers?

Three hours and every continent later, Tim was frustrated and angry at the fact that there's no perfect present fit for Damian.

Angrily, Tim gave up. He stopped his series of teleportations in China. He sat on a thick tree branch in a high tree, the hot sun beating down on his back. He watched a group of young kids playing in the rice fields, mud up to their thighs.

As he sat, watching from a distance, Tim realized something. Damian was quite like those kids. They didn't need toys or portable devices to have fun. Damian didn't need some special present to know that his friends care.

So with barely a whisper of the leaves, Tim teleported away.

He teleported back to Gotham. Most of the day had wasted away, and the afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky.

He entered an unassuming little shop, and quickly found what he was looking for. With a smile and a wave, he left the store ten minutes later, grabbed a gift bag and made it look a little nicer. He popped home really quick, leaving the bag in his room, spent a few hours with Connor, said hello to Bruce and his Father. Bruce gave him a stiff nod, while his Father grinned widely and talked animatedly.

Before long, Tim was standing in Damian's house, waiting as he suited up in the Bat suit, and they swung out into Gotham together.

* * *

CHAPTER 14

Tim had cleared his schedule the day before, pushing all meetings to the day after, and he set aside the whole day for his friends.

Since Damian was going to be occupied for the entire day, Tim arrived a lot earlier than Dick had asked. Dick had already purchased a large amount of party supplies in various bright colors. They spent the entire morning trying to keep streamers stuck to the walls and ceiling.

Connor stopped by to help as well after Dick and Tim kept ripping the thin paper decorations.

Jason was in charge of food, so the kitchen was full and running since Damian left that morning. Every time one of them had sheepishly gone into the kitchen or even the adjacent dining area, Jason snapped at them to "get out of my territory".

However, even with Connor's help, they were a mess. At least three rolls of streamers had been ruined after falling in some type of liquid, or being thrown out the open balcony door and falling down thirty stories to the streets below.

On top of that, a large bottle of glitter had been spilled on Damian's precious couch, the shimmery silver getting absolutely everywhere. It was a complete disaster. Between the yelling, the yelping, and the glitter cleaning, they were a pretty good team.

As six rolled around, some people started arriving.

Tim thought it would only be them, but apparently Jason and Dick invited some of their friends as well, seeing that Damian didn't actually have any human friends of any sort.

There was Kori, who would get along well with Damian, as she got along well with everyone, though a bit forgetful. Barbra was also a good choice, a funny half-blood Tim had never really gotten to know, Farfield Logan or something like that.

But they were good choices, people Damian would _somewhat_ get along with.

They made sure to dim the lights, hiding behind furniture as Damian was supposed to arrive home. They were all crowded in the living room, barely able to hide so many bodies, considering Damian was more of a minimalist type.

Tim held his breath. Something was off.

Not a moment later, the door behind all of them slammed open.

"Did you really think I would leave my house to a group of barbarians and not check in at some point?"

They all whipped around to see Damian standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Dick jumped up. "Surprise!"

Damian surveyed the room, eyebrows slowing inching higher. "Tt," he said. "Not so much surprising. However, I am surprised how much of a mess you managed to make." His eyes were staring at the large patch of glitter on his couch. "There is pink streamer decorating the street under my house."

Dick smiled. "Oops." He ran over and slung an arm around Damian's much wider shoulders. "So happy birthday, Damian! You're twenty one now! You can drink legally! C'mon, let me introduce you to some of my friends."

"Your demon friends."

"Yes," Dick said. "You'll love them. I promise."

Tim smiled fondly as Dick maneuvered Damian around the room, chattering happily. Damian looked increasingly more uncomfortable as he met more and more of Dick's friends. Tim was interrupted when a tapped his shoulder. He turned and Connor smiled, handing him a flute of champagne. He took it and took a slow sip. Not bad.

Kori gave Damian a hug, and Damian just stood there stiffly, looking so lost. Tim didn't really blame him.

As the ice broke, the party actually started. They chatted amongst themselves, eating bits of food, though Damian, Dick and Garfield, who went by Gar, were the only ones who actually ate.

They sat around Damian's living room, the patch of glitter avoided. Connor sat next to Tim, holding a plate of fruit for him.

Dick had talked Damian into open presents, so they were all gathered there, waiting patiently as he reached for his first present, from Dick, naturally.

Tim took a green grape from Connor's plate, popping it into his mouth. Juice squirted on his face, and before he could wipe it off with his hand, Connor handed him a napkin, laughing lightly.

He dabbed at his face, wiping especially at his eyes and Connor took the paper away as well, tossing it in the trash for him.

Dick got Damian thirty different kinds of coffee, Jason got him thirty types of wine. It was almost creepy how in tune they were with each other sometimes. A few more small, more general gifts from the others, like house décor, a new tea set, a really soft throw blanket. Connor gave Damian a beautiful leather bound journal.

Maybe it was just Tim, or the lighting, or the alcohol finally setting in, but Damian looked particularly bitter, his thin lips thinning even more, and he gave Connor a forced kind of thank you. And while alcohol doesn't really affect demons that much, Tim did drink quite a lot already and he was starting to feel the tiniest bit buzzed. Definitely not drunk, very far from drunk, though.

And maybe it was a coincidence, but Tim's present was saved for last. It was in a dark green gift bag with light green tissue paper in it. He hadn't been too elaborate with it, and he didn't even write a card. But as Damian moved the paper aside, his peeked in, not even taking the present out.

His eyes widened, and Tim saw Damian looked up at him, his reaction looking a lot less forced. He gave Tim a half smile, and relief flooded Tim, glad that Damian had liked his present. Damian tucked the paper back in the bag, and that was pretty much all the interaction they had all night.

Tim went around, talking with the others, sure, but he never seemed to get any time along. And for the first time since he'd met him, Tim just wanted Connor to _leave him alone_ for a minute. The second that thought popped in his head, Tim felt very guilty. Connor had been nothing but kind to him. He wasn't even being annoying.

Tim also knew that the only reason Connor was clinging to him like that was because he didn't exactly know anyone else there.

"Hey, you okay?" Connor asked, lightly touching his arm.

Tim snapped out of his stupor and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I don't think I have as high of a tolerance for alcohol as most demons do."

Connor laughed lightly. "It's okay. Trust me, you're doing a lot better than our guest of honor."

Tim glanced over to where Damian was talking with Dick and Kori. He looked more flushed than normal, and his posture was also much more relaxed. There was a small smile floating on his face.

"Eh, it's his birthday. He can do what he wants."

"But he's going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Connor shook his head. "You better make sure he makes it to the bathroom without breaking his head or something."

Tim hummed, tipping back the rest of his drink. He drifted around with a few more people, chatting amiably before it was nearly midnight, a little later than the time he would usually hop out into Gotham with Damian.

Everyone else had things to do, so they quickly said their goodbyes and birthday wishes to an increasingly drunk Damian and left.

Besides Jason and Dick, Connor was last to leave. He gave Damian a final sympathetic glance before pulling Tim in by the waist, kissing him full on the lips, much to Tim's surprise. He pulled away with a small laugh. "What was that?"

Connor just smiled. "Good night, Tim. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya."

Tim was alone with Damian now, who couldn't really stand.

As Dick popped out with the last trash bag, he gave them a cheery wave and even a wink.

There was a moment of silence.

"I need water," Damian said, his words slurring heavily.

Tim quickly rushed towards him as Damian attempted to walk towards the kitchen. He lugged Damian's thicker arm around his shoulder and they slowly wobbled to the kitchen. Tim leaned Damian against the fridge while filling a cup of water for him before placing it in Damian's hand.

"Didn't take you for a lightweight," Tim commented lightly.

"M'not," Damian muttered, his voice raspy. "Just drank… too much."

Tim took the empty glass from his hand and shouldered Damian's bulk again. "Would've expected you to be the epitome of control."

Damian groaned. "Bathroom. Now."

Tim practically dragged him there, and he stayed while Damian basically threw his stomach back up. He pushed Damian's hair from his sweaty forehead. A moment later, Damian managed to roll over onto his back, his head resting against the cool tile.

Tim wet a hand towel and handed it to Damian, who lay it over his eyes, groaning.

"Hey, why did you drink so much? I highly doubt you never actually drank alcohol before today."

"Dunno," Damian said softly. "Can't… remember."

Tim sighed. "Let's get you to bed then."

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

A small smirk grew on Damian's face. "I don't wanna walk. M'too drunk, remember?"

Tim huffed. "You know? You're strangely articulate for someone too drunk to walk."

"I know. Special, aren't I?"

Tim sat Damian up, leaning him against the wall. "Hey, you don't mind if I spend the whole night, right? Cuz you're not looking good at all."

"Tt, thanks."

"I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, we need to get you into bed sooner or later."

Tim lugged Damian to his feet. They stumbled their way down the hall, leaning against walls every once in a while.

"Tim," Damian said, a bit breathlessly.

"Hm?" They nearly tripped over the long rug in the hall.

"Are you dating Connor?" Damian asked, steadying himself against the wall for a brief moment.

Tim nearly stopped. "Um… I don't know. We've never really talked about it. Why?"

"Nothing," Damian said, sounding a bit gruffer than before. "He seems nice."

A bit more suspiciously, "Yeah. He is." They turned into Damian's room. It had been a while since Tim had been in here. Third time, ever. He sat Damian down on the bed. He grabbed a shirt that was thrown over a dresser, the same shirt Damian was wearing the night he interrupted his and Dick's talk in the library.

Tim picked it up, shaking it out and turning it back out. _Haly's Circus_ were what the faded letters read. It didn't sound familiar. But it was obviously well loved and well taken care of. He brought it over to Damian. "Here."

Damian took the shirt, looking at the image. "I miss him," he said softly. Tim almost didn't catch it.

"Who?" Tim asked.

"Grayson."

"He left not ten minutes ago, Damian."

Damian's lips turned up in a wry smile. "Hm." He then pulled his shirt over his head. Tim winced as a button popped off. Damian tossed it onto the ground. He pulled the faded blue t-shirt on. Tim looked away as he changed, ignoring the flip in his stomach. Damian lay down on top of the blankets. "Hey, Tim?" he whispered.

Tim forcefully pulled the blankets out, also trying to keep his eyes away from Damian's legs. But he did sneak a look. "Yeah?"

Damian laughed quietly, breathlessly. "Why is it always you?" he whispered, eyes closed, arms draped over his forehead.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always you. Maybe fate is just being a bitch or something… wish they were different circumstances," Damian said softly, slowly growing quieter. Tim draped the blankets over him. His breathing evened out. "I _do_ like you. Just wish they were different… circumstances. Coulda… made it… work…"

Tim stood there for a long time, waiting for Damian to elaborate or something, but he had actually fallen asleep this time.

With a heavy sigh, Tim backed out of the room, and started quietly cleaning up the mess from the party. Wrapping paper, ripped streamers, crushed bits food, wet spots on the ground, dirty napkins. It was a mess.

Halfway through cleaning, with an armful of half deflated balloons, Tim noticed his gift bag tipped over on the ground. Using his foot, he moved it, and the tissue paper fell out. It was empty. Glancing over at the pile of other gifts that were sitting on the cleaned coffee table, Tim found that his gift missing.

After he finished cleaning, mopping and scrubbing, Tim wandered into Damian's room reserved for vigilante purposes. And there, sitting on the table, illuminated by the neon glow of the computer was Tim's present.

Smiling softly, Tim sat in the comfy chair that had molded to fit his body, and touched the beautiful, hand crafted cover of the book. He gently lifted it, and on the first page, in his neat handwriting, _Happy Birthday, Damian_.

He left the cover fall, and the glint of gold words shined in curvy calligraphy: _Pride and Prejudice_.

Maybe he did know Damian quite well.

* * *

CHAPTER 15

Damian was more of a grouch than normal that morning. He was complaining left and right, demanding coffee and food and painkillers. Tim rushed around the penthouse best he could to meet all of Damian's demands.

Thing was, he didn't seem to remember what he said last night. Tim wanted to ask him about it, but judging by the man's current state, he decided against it for now. But he certainly would at some point.

"Why are you still here?" Damian snapped when Tim brought him his third cup of coffee.

Tim scoffed, "Because you seem to need the assistance."

Damian muttered something around the rim of his mug. Tim assumed it was an insult judging by the glare that accompanied it. Then more clearly, "Don't you have stuff to do with that Connor kid?"

"He's not a kid, and yes, I will be meeting him later. I'm just making sure you're okay before I go."

"Like you care."

Tim glared at him. "Okay, I may not have wanted the bond, but I don't hate you. I don't want you sick for your good and mine. I do care. I'm not heartless, Damian."

Damian looked a bit surprised. "Sorry… didn't know it bothered you."

Tim sighed. He looked at Damian for a moment before taking his coffee cup and drinking all of it that was left. The tint of sugar made Tim grimace. "Sorry, I'll go make you another cup."

To his surprise, Damian laughed. "No, it's fine. I've been an ass this morning. I'll go make my own coffee. You go do… whatever you do in hell on a daily basis."

Damian rolled out of bed and started toward the kitchen. Tim took a moment and appreciated the view - the crazy bed hair, the rumpled shirt that made Damian, _Damian,_ look small, the fact that it rode up above his boxers, and his _legs_.

Tim jogged after him, falling into step besides him. "Damian," he starts hesitantly.

"What?"

"There's… something I think we should talk about." Tim cleared his throat. "Specifically about the bond."

Damian reached for the coffee maker and started boiling the water. "And?"

"You know how I've been working on breaking it right?"

"And how's that coming along?" Damian measured out the coffee grounds of his favorite coffee. "Any progress?"

Tim swallowed. "Yes, but… there isn't exactly enough time for the consequences of the spell to be reversed. However… there is another way."

Damian rinsed his mug of previous coffee bits. "Which is?"

"It requires you to be turned into a demon."

Damian stopped. "I must not have heard you-"

"You heard me. I'm sorry, Damian. But I need a partner to rule and I can't break this bond and reverse its consequences it in time."

The corners of Damian's lips turned downwards slightly. "And what repercussions might this spell have?"

"It would turn me human."

"Human."

"Yeah, human," Tim said, his voice nearly a whisper.

Damian suddenly cleared his throat. "Okay, so you say that won't work. And how will _I_ be able to help out here? If I'm not wrongly informed, it takes a least a century for a human to become a demon."

Tim cleared his throat. "There's one last way. You… You can sell your soul."

Damian's eyes narrowed as he slowly filled his cup with coffee. "Sell my soul. And hypothetically, who would I sell my soul to? I've done my reading, Tim. I know what selling one's soul entitles."

Tim shrugged helplessly. "Someone you trust. Dick? He's powerful and you trust him, don't you?"

"Tt. And if I want to be human again? Could the spell work on me?"

"I don't- I don't think so," Tim said quietly. "Not without Dick dying."

Damian's mouth thinned into a hard line. He slowly drank his entire cup of coffee before he answered. Tim sat there nervously, brewing in nervousness. He knew that Damian could probably feel it, but Tim could also feel Damian's slow, throbbing annoyance and anger.

He finally spoke, setting the mug down with a heavy _clunk_. "I'll think about it."

* * *

CHAPTER 16

Patrol was a quiet and tense affair. They exchanged no more words than necessary. Once they arrived back at Damian's penthouse, Damian went to bed almost immediately, not even bothering to say goodbye to Tim.

Tim on the other hand, stayed in the room. He messed around on the computer, pretending to work until he felt Damian fall asleep.

Just as he was about to stop screwing around and think, something caught his eye. A nondescript file that was heavily encrypted. Thankful for something to do, Tim started working on it.

An hour later, he finally broke through the heavy encryption. And underneath that, there were a whole lot of useless trash files, but only one that was marked with a date, two years ago.

Clicking it open, there were close to a hundred files in there. Opening the first one, Tim waited hesitantly while it loaded.

It was a video. It was only five minutes long and a younger Damian was sitting in front of the camera. He looked tired, so very tired.

 _"It's been a week. A damn week. I mean, I know I got in an argument with Grayson, and I told Pennyworth I'd be staying with Jon for a while, but damnit!" Damian slammed the table in front of him. "Did no one notice I'm missing?"_

 _There was a heavy sigh. Damian rubbed his eyes. "Father's away with the Justice League. Only Drake and Pennyworth are possibly in the Manor. I'm sure they'll figure it out. But I don't know how much longer it will take. I need to find shelter, food, more money soon."_

 _There was a long pause. "Someone once told me that if I ever were to get lost somewhere, I would have to find a way to keep myself grounded. So I'm going to do this until they find me."_

The rest of the video had Damian sitting in an empty room, staring off into space before he turned off the camera. Tim was confused. What was that all about?

He clicked open the next video.

 _It started off with a sigh. Damian looked even worse than before. He hadn't changed his clothes, and his hair was greasy and limp. "Day eight in this new world. It's not like I haven't been to other universes before, but I've always been with someone else. And I always managed to get out within three days. But now…" Damian stared at something out of the frame for a long time. "I know it's only been eight days, but," he chuckled humorlessly. "I miss them. Dick's annoying and horrible jokes, Jason's insipid nicknames, Tim's pestering, Pennyworth's sarcasm."_

 _Damian shook his head. "Tt, I'd never live it down if anyone of them knew that." He suddenly growled. "Why the hell_ am _I missing them? I've gone longer without seeing any of them!"_

The video was cut off abruptly.

Tim sat there for a while, soaking in the new information. Damian… was from another world. A world with another Dick, another Jason, another _him_ , and people that Tim didn't know.

Tim spent the rest of the night watching Damian's videos. He looked constantly tired and out of it. After a month worth of videos, Damian started seeming rather desperate.

 _"I've never been one who believed in fate and shit," he started off. He was messing around with a pen in his hands, nervously clicking it. "But what if this is fate's sadistic side rearing its head? Because I was a bad person? I mean, I wasn't all that nice, but what have I done that Jason doesn't do for fun? At least I didn't start drinking at age fifteen!"_

 _Damian huffed. He frowned hard, his eyebrows drawing together. "There is this corrupt businessman in this Gotham. He is using his money for all the wrong things, so I… I hacked into his bank account, and I'm using his money to buy things. I'm making sure to cover my tracks."_

 _He raised his hands up to cover his face. His fingernails were bitten to the point of bleeding._

 _"Why haven't they come save me yet?" Damian's voice sounded so broken and hopeless. "Do I not matter?" His voice was just above a whisper now and vulnerable. "I'm sorry for whatever I did, okay? I'm sorry. I won't take them for granted anymore. I promise. Do you hear that?!" He yelled loudly at the empty room. "I'm sorry!"_

 _There was no answer. Then black._

Tim sat there for a long time. Is this what Damian had gone through all this time? Alone? He heart ached. It was two, nearly three years ago. Damian was only eighteen, barely an adult.

Tim skipped a few, only watching the ones that seemed significant. Six months in, Damian was still making videos.

 _"I've finished building a more permanent place to live. It's very quiet. I never noticed. I never noticed how much I was surrounded by noise until now. Thirty stories up in Gotham, it's quiet._

 _"Here, there's none of the villains my Gotham had. No Ivy, no Riddler, no Scarecrow, no Bane, no Joker," Damian chuckled. "Jason would've been happy to hear that. But on top of everything, there's no Batman. And yet, this Gotham is still filled with crime. And for some reason, I feel like I have a duty to uphold, despite being away from home._

 _"And it might do me some good. I have a lot of stress to relieve. And I can listen to the city at night again. It might not be mine, but if I close my eyes and listen, I'm sure it'll sound just the same. I think it's time Batman meets his bride again."_

Tim felt for Damian. He didn't ask for this. He didn't deserve this. Then, before he knew it, he was a the last video.

 _Damian sat silently in front of the camera for a long time. His arm was in a cast, and his fingers were all bundled up. He didn't say anything for a long time. Then, in the most broken voice yet, "I saw him." Tears started welling up in Damian's eyes. "He's a doctor. Here, in Gotham._

 _"He's younger than my Grayson. About the age of Grayson was when he faked his death. And he didn't seem to recognize me, so I would assume he doesn't know if there's another one of me in this world. I've searched, but haven't found me yet. Nor have I found anything on this world's Tim Drake or Jason Todd. There's no Bruce. I did find Jon, but… I can't go meet him. I don't want a replacement. I want my family back._

 _"I want to go home."_

Tim didn't realize it, but his eyes had teared up. He watching Damian, he couldn't take it. Did Damian still feel this way? Did it hurt for him to see them every day? Is that why he makes those strange expressions, like there is something distasteful around him at all times? Is… Is this why he is so reluctant to follow through with Tim's plan?

Because he still holds on to the hope that he has a home to return to? And if he were to say yes, he'd be giving up that hope.

But a selfish part of Tim didn't want Damian to leave. Yes, Damian didn't deserve for this to happen to him, but Tim would gladly admit that he wanted Damian to stay. If Damian leaves, Tim can't… Tim can't protect him. If Damian leaves, Tim won't see him again because Damian wouldn't want to come back to this cruel world.

Tim sat there until the sun rose and he felt Damian stirring from his sleep. Tim's eyes were trained on Damian's frozen, crying face on the screen, and his heart broke.

* * *

CHAPTER 17

It was the first day of October; Halloween was only thirty days away. He needed to make a choice today to give Clark enough time to collect the more rare ingredients for the spell. Or he needed an answer from Damian. But Tim didn't want to remind Damian of their talk.

It had been three weeks since then, and he was still thinking of Damian's secret. Tim really wanted Damian to stay in this world. He would miss him really badly if Damian left, especially if the bond doesn't get broken (which Tim doesn't really want either). But at the same time, Tim felt that Damian deserved to go home. He ended up here against his will, and even then, he ignores all that and he goes out every night as Batman, fighting crime with determination, protecting a city that only reminds him of his home, but isn't home.

Tim also didn't bring up Damian's past to the man. He wanted to talk to Damian about it, but he just couldn't work up the nerve. It had been eating away at him for the past three week, and Damian was starting to see that something was up.

Yet, even then, Tim met up with Damian every night for patrol. And every time Damian's back was turned, Tim would watch him with a longing expression. He tries to savor each moment they have together.

Right now, they were perched on one of the taller buildings of Gotham, overlooking the bright city. Sounds of traffic were far below them, enough to fill the silence, but not enough to render it impossible for conversation.

It was a slow night.

Tim decided that he needed to say something. He cleared his throat. "Damian," he said softly.

"No names." Damian growled.

Tim sighed. "No, Damian. I- I need to talk to you."

Damian finally turned to him, the mask hiding his expression.

"I'm going to tell you the truth, okay?" Tim took a deep breath. "I don't want to break the bond anymore. I know you don't know anything about demon politics or anything, but I wouldn't mind if you ruled hell with me. It's the only solution at have right now, Damian. Please."

Damian sat there stoically, and Tim held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. After a while, he opened his mouth to speak.

But before anything could come out, there was movement behind him. A whirl of shadows, and Damian was thrown backwards. He hit the roof access door, held there telepathically.

Tim was on his feet in a whirl. "Bruce! What are you doing?! Let him go!" Tim yelled at the mass of shadows.

 _Tim, who is this? What is this? Why are you out here? I came to look for you, and I find you hanging around the company of a human?_ Bruce asked, sounding a bit angry. _Doesn't matter. Are you looking into a spell that will turn you human? Because I can give you a thousand reasons why it's a horrible idea._

"No!" Tim said. His eyes darted to Damian, who was struggling against the telepathic hold. "I-"

 _Tim, you should be working on finding a partner! Your initiation is in less than four months!_

"I will as soon as take care of the bond situation!" Tim said, almost pleading. "Now please let him go! He's human!"

 _You don't understand, Tim. The bond can wait. Finding a partner is the most important part!_ Bruce said. _If you do not have an approved partner by the date of your initiation, you will have no chance to rule, and there will be a huge riot over who will take over the throne next, especially since Richard refuses to take over hell!_

Tim's argument died in his throat. "Wh-What? But if I'm bonded to someone else, I can't have a partner!"

There was a pause. Tim could feel Damian starting to approach unconsciousness from the lack of oxygen. _What are you talking about? You don't have to be bonded to your partner. You don't even have to be romantically involved with your partner to rule with them. It's a political move. We're asking you to choose someone who is fit to rule. We're not asking for you to choose your partner in life, Tim._

"WHAT?!" Tim's anger started boiling. His skin burst into flames, roaring towards the dark skies. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! DID NO ONE THINK IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO TELL ME THIS SEVEN MONTHS AGO? NOW LET DAMIAN GO!"

Damian dropped onto the ground in a heap, gasping for breath. He leaned his head against the dented door, catching his breath.

 _You did not know?_

"Of course I didn't fucking know! Every single ruler of hell was romantically involved with their partner, so I did not know about the stupid rule!" Tim ranted, the bonfire sized fire boiled down to a gentle simmer. "I did not read about this anywhere! How did you know?!"

 _It is not written in the history books, yes, because as you said, all previous rulers were romantically involved with their partner. But in the law books, it does not state that one needs to rule with a romantic partner. Everyone before you just preferred to._

Tim took a deep breath and focused on calming the flames. The burning didn't hurt him, but he did see Damian wincing uncomfortably. "Bruce. Damian is the human I'm bonded to. And now that you've informed me of _this_ , I would like you to leave him alone now. I can handle my own business, thank you very much."

 _I am sorry, Tim. I did not know,_ Bruce said. His rather monotone voice did not make him sound very sorry.

"Just go. I'll… I'll see you later."

Bruce disappeared and Tim ran towards Damian. He fell to his knees, cupping Damian's cheeks and pulled the cowl off.

"Tim?" Damian asked, his voice sounding raspy. "That demon… Bruce?" His eyes turned up to look at Tim. Tim could see the stars above Gotham, the stars Connor loved so much, reflecting in Damian's dark green eyes, and Tim thought that they looked much better there.

Tim's heart skipped a beat. Bruce was Damian's father in the other world. Someone he respected and obviously cared a lot about.

"I'm sorry, Damian," Tim murmured. "Are you okay? He… didn't hurt you too much, did he?"

Damian shook his head. "No, I've had worse." He paused for a moment. "Looks like your problem is solved."

Tim huffed lightly, a light laugh. "Almost. But I do know what I will do now. Should we go home now?"

"Home?" Damian echoed emptily.

"Shit, I mean-"

"Yeah, let's go home," Damian interrupted, closing his eyes.

* * *

CHAPTER 18

Tim was very busy the next couple days.

First, he went to go visit Clark.

"Thank you for everything," Tim said, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his coat. "I'm sorry I made you do all that and in the end, I didn't need it."

Clark sighed. "I am a little miffed about that, but… it's alright, I guess." He looked Tim up and down for a moment. "Hey, take care, you hear? I don't want you making some other stupid mistake and showing up at my church again claiming you need my help. But if you do need it, I won't deny you."

Tim nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."

Clark allowed himself a light laugh. "Sir? Please. I know I'm old, but I'm pretty sure you're millenniums older than me."

Tim smiled, knowing things Clark didn't. "Mmm. Don't be so sure."

Clark gave him an odd look.

"Anyway, really, thank you, Clark," Tim said. "Ah, one more thing, Dick says thank you."

"Dick… Grayson?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. He's thankful for your help, though my brother is less thankful, haha. You _did_ expel him from Dick's apartment."

Clark's eyebrows rose. "Mister Grayson's demon is your brother? Which means he was a prince of hell…? And how is Mister Grayson holding up now?"

Tim grinned. "Oh, he's great. I'm pretty sure they're planning on getting bonded any day now. Also, Dick was a decedent of Lucifer, you know that? Funny this world is."

Clark visibly stiffened. " _What?_ "

"Oh, yeah. Really ironic. Also, are you interested in brunch? You don't really seem the brunch type, but Connor wanted a time to catch up, and he only has time around brunch time, so…"

Clark swallowed hard, trying to soak in all the information. Tim was secretly really enjoying it. "Um… I guess?" He replied, really flustered.

"Alright," Tim turned and started to walk away. "Thank you, Father Kent!" He called, waving cheerily.

Next, Tim visited Connor.

"Connor, I need to tell you the truth," Tim said, not bothering to say hello. Connor gave him a bright smile and started to lean down to kiss him, but Tim put a hand on his chest.

"What's wrong?" Connor asked.

Tim took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, but I don't really think I want our relationship to be… this, whatever this is. You have an amazing personality and you've showed me new ways to look at the world, Connor, but…"

Connor smiled, a little sadly. "You don't want a relationship. It's Damian, isn't it?"

Tim looked away.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad. I saw the way he looked at you at that party. He glared at me the entire time. I swear he would've murdered me if I didn't leave you alone, and I didn't want him to catch me alone, so I stuck by you the whole time." He laughed sheepishly. "Sorry."

Tim blinked. "He was… jealous?"

"If that's how you want to word it. Drank himself silly because if it."

"Oh."

"You didn't know?" Connor asked with genuine surprise. "Wow, looks like you guys will have a lot to talk about. Anyway, I understand, Tim. Don't beat yourself up about it. Honestly, I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship either." Connor looked at Tim hopefully. "But can we stay-"

"Friends? Yes, please," Tim said with a relieved exhale. "Actually, I can to you with more than just my confession. I wanted to offer you a proposition."

"Okay…?"

"I need someone to rule with, and I think you're perfect. You're organized, patient, fair. While you don't exactly have a very commanding stance, no offense, I can easily make up for your weaknesses, and you can make up for mine. So… will you accept my proposal to rule hell with me in four months?" Tim asked hesitantly.

Connor beamed. "Of course, Tim!"

Tim smiled too. "Good." He breathed out, glad to have gotten that over with. "That's good. I'm glad this worked out a lot better than I was expecting."

He held his hand out for Connor to shake, but Connor swept him up in a tight hug instead, and Tim gladly returned it.

But even with all the craziness in his life, Tim found time each night for Damian. They still went out on their patrols, but not they weren't skirting around each other as much. Damian had come straight out and asked Tim what was bothering so much recently, and Tim came clean about the videos.

They had a long talk after patrol one night, which ended up with Damian falling asleep on his couch and Tim brought blankets and covered him.

He quietly cleaned the rest of Damian's house, something he seemed to be doing more and more often. But two hours later, just as the sun was peeking over buildings of Gotham, Dick and Jason popped in.

Tim felt Damian jerk awake as Dick shook him hard, all the while screaming. Tim teleported from the bathroom to the living room in alarm. And upon his arrival, Dick grabbed Tim's shoulders and shouted in his face, "I'M GETTING MARRIED!"

Tim looked from Dick to Jason, who was standing there smugly. "Married?" Tim asked. "To whom?"

Damian sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Your idiot of a brother, obviously," he rasped.

Tim raised his eyebrows at Jason. "You proposed to Dick?"

Dick was dancing around the room in excitement. "Yup! He asked me to get bonded, and then he said that since bonds were a demon tradition, we should do a human tradition too, so I'M HAVING A WEDDING, BITCHES!"

Damian rolled over, shoving a pillow over his ears. "It's too early for a wedding," he muttered before going back to sleep.

* * *

The wedding, which was held the first week of November, was beautiful. It was held on one of Gotham's nicer beaches, though the weather was a bit cold. Surprisingly, it was a clear day, and it was nice out.

Clark agreed to act as the priest at the wedding, after much convincing from Tim, Connor and even Dick himself.

It was a wedding of the century. All of Dick's friends he'd made in the eight months he'd been a demon (which is a lot), Tim, Damian, Connor, many important figures of the demon court, some less important figures, Tim's Father, and Bruce.

Damian stuck by Tim's side throughout the whole thing, looking very uncomfortable. He looked from familiar face to familiar face, but he didn't know any of them. Tim didn't introduce him, as Damian had specifically asked not to be.

Jason looked very proud to be standing at the end of the aisle, and Tim's heart filled with pride as well, watching as Jason's eyes grew a bit wider when Dick appeared. The entire ceremony, their eyes never left each other. Their smiles were so wide it almost hurt to look.

"They look so in love it's making me sick," Damian said from beside him.

Tim looked over, a bit worried, but Damian was smiling, turning his attention from the couple to Tim for a moment. Tim elbowed him, and looked back at Dick and Jason.

They said their vows to each other, and they never looked away from each other. It was like they were seeing each other for the first time. They didn't even break the eye contact when they exchanged rings, which were beautiful works themselves – silver, with veins of red ruby and blue sapphire intertwining throughout.

When they kissed, Dick hooked his arms around Jason's neck, pulling himself up, and Jason's arms went around Dick's waist like it was a second nature, pulling him closer. The applaud was thundering.

They parted, and Jason said something to Dick, which made him laugh before whispering something back. No one could hear them, but for them, the world only had two people. It _was_ sickening.

Most of the guests left after the main event. Less than half had been invited to the reception, which was much smaller. There was a small tent that was set up, with finger foods, drinks, and some music. But the reception was where the bonding would take place.

Jason and Dick stood across from each other, their suit jackets laid aside and their white button ups open, revealing their chests. Their arms were held out side by side, facing upwards. A special knife was used, creating a thin line along their inner forearms. Before it could heal, however, they each took a swipe of their own blood.

Tim watched with great attention as Jason went first, pressing his thumb to Dick's forehead, chest, then finally back up to his lips. Jason let his thumb linger on Dick's lips, drawing his lower lip down a little, and Tim swears that Dick's pupils dilated. Geez, those two. Dick repeated the process for Jason. Forehead, chest, lips. Then, much like a human wedding, it was sealed with a kiss.

Rather simple ritual, but ever so sacred.

After the two were bonded, Damian leaned over towards Tim. "How the hell did we end up bonded if that's the ritual?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know. But I blame you. After all, you seem to have the best of luck with unfortunate situations."

Damian laughed, the sound sharp. "Tt, I'm not the demon. It wouldn't have worked without you."

Tim turned to face him. "Oh, okay, blame it on something I had no control over," he said, a smirk slowly growing on his face.

"Oh, is that like a demonic boner or something? 'Oops, I just got the sudden urge to bond with the man I just beat up!'"

Tim laughed. "Oh shut up."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Tim glared at him, and Damian glared back. Tim looked into his green, green eyes, and they were mischievous and taunting. Tim leaned forward before Damian could react, kissing him hard, his hand cupping Damian's cheek.

Damian's surprised and muffled squeak is what jerked Tim back to reality and he pulled away. He held his breath, waiting for Damian to speak.

"Don't ever do that again," Damian said, his voice a low growl. Before Tim's heart could shatter, he added, "Surprise me like that, that is. I could've punched you, and even if you're a demon, it would've hurt."

Tim looked up at Damian, who was smirking at him. Dick ran forward toward him, grabbing Damian's arm. "Dami, pictures! C'mon, I need pictures with you!"

Tim is still standing there, processing as Dick dragged Damian away, but not before Damian winked at him.

And as Tim watched Dick making Damian pose in ridiculous formations, he smiled softly. Everything turned out fine after all.

* * *

A few days later, Tim had popped back home to run a few quick errands when he ran into Jason in the hall. They were headed in the same direction, so they walked together. Tim realized how little of his brother he really actually sees on a regular basis. Tim smiled wistfully.

"So you and him finally worked it out?"

"Yeah. I think we did."

They continued down the long hall in silence, each kind of lost in their own thoughts. Dick and Jason had decided to stall their honeymoon for a while, until after Tim's initiation, which Tim insisted they shouldn't do, but they did anyways.

"So you've decided to keep the bond, I see?" Jason said. "Wouldn't have thought of that in a million years."

Tim hummed. "Me neither. But I'm kind of glad. Damian's really not all that bad."

"Guess you're right. For a human at least."

"Dick was human."

"Mostly human."

"But still human."

"Shut up."

Tim smiled, unable to help it. He and Jason rarely had these moments, where it was just the two of them, having a casual conversation. They seemed to be thinking the same thing because when Tim said, "You know, I hope that since you're married and bonded now, you won't… I don't know, completely disappear and become buried in your life and forget about me."

"Aw, Timmy worried he won't ever see me again?" Jason asked teasingly, but his tone clearly showed that he was a bit worried too. "Then you need to return the favor. Come visit your older brother sometimes. And bring your bond mate. Don't get too caught up between your future royal duties and your little human on earth."

Tim nodded, growing solemn. "I won't. Promise. You're my brother. You were there first."

Jason suddenly hugged him, and it caught Tim by surprise. Jason didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Tim knew him long enough to know everything he's saying.

Just then, he felt Damian calling him through his bond.

Tim pulled back. "I've got to go. Damian's calling."

Jason nodded, patting Tim on the shoulder roughly. "Take care, lil bro. And watch out for your bond mate. He's a hard one to find."

Tim nodded and Jason teleported away. Tim also popped away soon after.

He appeared outside Damian's bedroom, knocking gently on the door before opening it. He had only left Damian's house an hour ago. What could he possibly want now?

He peered inside, and Damian was in bed, covers pulled up to his chin, looking very comfortable and half asleep. He murmured something, his half-lidded green eyes blinking slowly at Tim.

"Sorry, what was that?" Tim asked.

"Can you turn off the lights? Forgot…" Damian said, a sheepish smile drifting onto his lips.

Tim gave him his best disapproving stare before flicking the light switch off. "There, happy?"

Damian hummed, snuggling deeper into bed. A moment later, he flipped over one corner of his covers. "Hurry up, it's cold," he said, scooting over.

Tim sighed exaggeratedly, pulling off his jacket and shirt. He kicked his shoes and socks off before pulling his jeans down and tossing them all into a nearby chair. "Demanding, demanding," he said with pretend exasperation. He slid smoothly into the warm space Damian had been occupying.

The covers came back down and Damian's arm curled around his waist. Tim rested his head against Damian's chest, and the man's chin was tucked neatly above him. Tim took a deep breath, just breathing in Damian's scent.

He smiled to himself. He pressed closer to Damian's chest, listening to his steady, slow heartbeat as he fell asleep. Tim closed his eyes too, and even though he couldn't exactly sleep, he liked to pretend.

And right then and there? Nothing could be better.

* * *

EPILOGUE

It had been four years since Damian had come to this universe. And it taken a good portion of that time to accept that he was not going back to his old life, no matter how much he wished for it.

Damian had settled into his new life, fallen into a routine with Tim, and he was actually happy with it.

During the day, Damian usually slept until noon, when he would wake up to the sounds of Dick and Jason, popping in for lunch. Occasionally, Tim would join them, but he was usually busy running hell.

Tim ran hell during the day, working with Kon, who took over for him at night. And at night, Tim would come up to earth and go on patrol with Damian. They were an unbeatable team, not needing to speak aloud for them to feel what needed to happen. It was all intuitive.

Sometimes, if Damian were to get hurt, Tim would heal him, all the while chastising him coldly about what he should have done better, but not in a mean way. It was just the dynamic of their relationship. Damian would do the same to Tim if Tim ever got hurt in some way that didn't heal immediately.

And when they do arrive back at Damian's penthouse in the early hours of the morning, they would take showers and curl up together in Damian's outrageously large bed.

Tim didn't require sleep of any kind, but it still felt nice lying next to Damian, listening to his deep, slow breathing. It calmed him. Then, just before the sun starts peeking its face over the dark skylines of Gotham, Tim would press a light kiss to Damian's forehead and leave for his day of work.

It was a perfect and rather reliable routine.

This went on for a year and a half.

One night, as Damian and Tim were out on patrol, someone jumped pushed Tim off the building they had been perched on and grabbed Damian before he could react. A long bar was pressed to his throat as he was shoved against the small roof access door.

The person that had attacked him was dressed in all black, and a ski mask was pulled over his face. It looked like any other criminal Damian beat up on a nightly basis, but this one was _strong._

"I'm looking for a Damian," the man said softly in his ear, though it was deep and a bit raspy. "Tall, dark haired, green eyed, a bit angry-looking, around twenty four years of age. Seen him around?"

Damian's blood ran cold. He rarely made any friends or enemies outside of the mantle of the Bat, so who was looking for him?

"Who's asking?" He growled.

The man pressed the stick closer. "Doesn't matter. Seen him around?"

"Can't say I have," Damian answered, pushing the man off. However, the man had quick reflexes, flipping around and throwing Damian to the ground, twisting his arms behind his back painfully. Damian grunted as his face was ground into the gravel of the roof.

"Then who are you?" the masked man demanded. "Jason? Tim? Bruce? _Who are you?!"_

Before Damian could say anything, the pain his arms were relieved as the man was pulled off of him. He rolled around to see Tim dangling the man over the side of the building by his neck. Damian could feel Tim's anger rolling off of him.

The man growled at Tim, who only clenched tighter. Damian scrambled to his feet.

"No! Wait!"

Tim looked at him. "What is it?"

Damian pulled of his mask. "Who are you?" He asked. The man stopped struggling, gasping instead.

"Dami?" The man croaked.

Damian's jaw dropped as his heartbeat rose. "Grayson? Oh my god, Tim let go of him! And not over the side if the building!"

Damian could practically see Tim's smirk in the dark. "Aw, I was just joking." He dropped the man at Damian's feet. "Besides, that's not Dick. And how does he know you? You're practically a hermit."

"Stop joking," Damian said seriously. He pulled off the man's mask. "This is… This _is_ Dick. He's- He's from my world."

It took Tim a couple seconds to process. "Well, shit."

Dick, the human Dick, hugged Damian's neck tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. "Damian, we thought we'd lost you! And, oh god, I'm sorry, Little D. I shouldn't have let you go off on your own. You must've been so scared! I'm so glad I finally you, baby bat." Dick cried harder and Damian patted his back awkwardly.

"They're the same, aren't they?" Tim asked dryly. "I'm calling the other two."

Damian didn't protest. Dick gasped quickly pulling away. "I need to tell Jay! And Tim! And Clark would want to know as well. Alfred would be delighted. Oh, we were all so worried about you, Damian. Look at you! Batman? I'm so proud." He started tearing up again.

"Don't you dare cry on me again." Damian sighed. "C'mon, we'll talk about this back my house. Tim, a lift?"

Tim took Damian's hand, and grabbed Dick's shirt, using his demon strength to lift the man. "I don't trust you for a second," he hissed at Dick. "You're not fooling me."

"Tim," Damian said tiredly. "Please."

With that, they teleported to Damian's living room. Dick stumbled. "What the hell?" he backed away from Tim. "What was that? Some high-tech teleportation device embedded somewhere? THAT WAS AMAZING."

Damian gestured for Dick to sit. He sat across from Dick. "Um, you don't drink coffee, right?"

Dick shook his head. "Nope, just tea. And Timmy's trying to wean off caffeine, so no coffee for him. And Jason would just want a beer."

Tim, who had taken off his mask, frowned. "I would never give up coffee," he muttered.

"You're not human either," Damian told him dryly.

"Why do I feel like you remind me of that every day?" Tim asked, heading to the kitchen.

When Tim left, Dick looked at Damian. "Another inhuman bunch?" He groaned. "Well, at least he's didn't try to eat me."

Damian looked alarmed, and Dick laughed. "It's a long story. By the way, Tim and Jay are going to be here soon. And where am I? There is another one of me in this world, I assume."

"Yes, I'm right here," a voice behind Dick said.

Dick spun around and his eyes lit up. "Dickie! You're the eighth one I've met. Wow, I didn't even hear you come in. Wait, you're also not human? Why is no one here human?" he pointed at Damian. " _You're_ still human, right? You're not some vampire or something?"

"Yes, Grayson," Damian said. "I'm still human. Don't you worry your little head over me."

Jason was wearing a distrustful expression. He walked up behind Dick and tugged his head back by his hair, inspecting him.

"I don't like him," he finally announced.

Both of the Dicks in the room made a sound of protest.

When Jason let go, Dick, the human one, rubbed his head. "Good to know Jay's still a jerk," he grumbled. Then he paused, listening. A smile crept onto his face. "Yup, he's fine," he answered. Damian assumed it was a comm link to Tim and Jason. "Mhm. Just trace it to me."

Dick smiled at them all, **Tim** having returned temporarily from the kitchen. "So, did Lil D behave himself here? You know, he was the _worst_ child. Like a complete terror to have around." Damian glared at him. Dick only perked up. "I have pictures! Hold on." He dug into his black sweater and pulled out a leather wallet. He opened it, and pulled out a _huge_ stack of pictures. A couple fell out, and leaned over to pick it up.

Damian's eyes bugged out. "How the hell did all that fit in _there?_ "

Dick laughed. "Seriously? I spent years fitting myself into a skin tight suit every single night. Don't you think I would know some things about squeezing things into smaller compartments?" His eyebrows wiggled. "Anyway, here, look." He handed Damian a picture. "Look, there's you, first time I met you, all tied up."

Damian barely saw it before it was snatched out of his hands. "Aw, looking at him Jay! He's so small! And angry! And tiny! He's like a mad little kitten that thinks he's vicious!" **Dick** cooed over it, waving it around and shoving it in **Jason's** face.

Dick grinned. "I have more. Here's Damian as Robin, Damian's first Christmas at the Manor, Da- oh, that's Alfred and Jay, Damian arguing with Tim, Damian as a baby, Damian-"

"How did you get a baby picture?" Damian asked. "I didn't even meet you until I was ten!"

Dick chuckled nervously. "Um, that's a long story. You see, I slipped it from Bruce a while ago, who got it as a present from Jay several months before that, who nicked it from Talia when he was resurrected, who saved it from Ra's long ago, who didn't believe in baby pictures."

 **Tim, Jason,** and **Dick** were looking over the pictures, much to Damian's outrage, and unfortunately, they were a lot faster than he was. A bit later, **Tim** excused himself and went to go work on the tea. Dick collected all the pictures back up, and worked on sliding each one back into his overstuffed wallet.

A moment later, someone crashed through his kitchen window, and Damian heard guns cocking. A few crashing noises which had Damian cringing internally, imagining the mess he'd have to clean up later.

Then, **Tim** walked in, hands on his head, looking rather peeved, and Jason, Damian's Jason, walking behind him, gun pointed at the back of **Tim's** head.

Jason's eyes landed on Damian. "Oh, hey, demon spawn." Damian glared at him. "Ah, I do miss that glare."

Tim walked in after Jason, putting his grappling gun back into his belt. He was dressed as Batman, obviously having ditched patrol and coming here. It struck Damian as odd that Tim would become Batman next, though it wasn't all that weird, as Damian wasn't there anymore.

Surprisingly, after tucking his own guns away, Jason pulled Damian into a hug. He didn't say anything, but Damian didn't expect him to. Hugs were not the style of Jason Todd. It surprised him even more when Tim also crashed into the hug, arms wrapping around both Jason and Damian, who grunted lightly at the additional pressure. Dick got all excited, leaping over the couches unnecessarily and piled on the outside.

"I'm going to start crying again," Dick warned after a few seconds. He pulled away. He sniffled and then burst into tears.

Damian watched with a rather fond smile as **Dick** lead his counterpart back to the couch, all the while rubbing his back. Next to each other, Damian noticed several differences. **Dick** was a bit shorter, and he was more slim and his features less defined. Dick was built but still retained his acrobat physique. But they had the same shade of eyes, same face structure and same voice, which was really creepy.

Meanwhile, Jason and Tim were eyeing their own counterparts with slight distaste. Damian sighed internally.

"Okay," he said. "Maybe you guys can explain your sudden appearance now," he said, ushering the other two to their seats next to Dick. **Jason** and **Tim** stood protectively behind Damian, glaring subtly at the new arrivals still, but **Dick** had taken to them quite quickly, so he sat next to them.

Dick sniffled. "We searched for _years,_ " he said, wiping at his eyes. **Dick** held up a box of tissues. Dick grabbed one. "But it was hard because we didn't know where you went. You could've gone to another dimension, a different time period, it was impossible to tell."

"B spent so much time looking for you. We all did," Tim said softly.

"Where is he, then?" Damian asked. When no one answered, Damian's worst fears started surfacing. "No." Tim grabbed his shoulder and squeezed

Dick looked up, alarmed. "No, no! If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, no, he's not dead, Damian. Goodness. Bruce is a fighter. He won't die."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Damian muttered, but his heartbeat leveled a bit more. "Then what wrong?"

Jason sighed. "Damian, your father… broke."

"You broke my father?"

"He… shut day after you disappeared. Closed himself off from the world. Wouldn't talk to any of us, wouldn't answer any Justice League calls, didn't go out on patrol. He didn't even let Clark in to see him. Only Alfred ever went in and out of his bedroom and when we questioned Alfred, he just shook his head sadly on most days."

"And this has been happening for four years? I don't believe you," Damian said, crossing his arms. "Father isn't like that."

But the solemn looks on all their faces made Damian's heart clench. Dick shook his head. "I'm sorry, Damian. I wish there was something we could've done. But Bruce is human, despite what it may seem. He has weaknesses. He just hides them well. I know you weren't there, but he put himself through a similar phase when Jason died."

"And he just gave up hope?" Damian asked, anger flaring.

"Of course not!" Jason glared at Damian, looking offended he would even think of such a thing. Jason and Bruce never really got along after Jason's resurrection, and Jason had never defended Bruce like that before. "He worried himself sick for you!"

Tim nudged him and Jason relaxed a bit. "Damian, we decided that finding you was the only way to make Bruce better, so I spent a _lot_ of time developing quick inter-dimensional travel. It isn't perfect, and we could only use the device about once a month, and it had a 24-hour recharging period, so for 24 hours, we were stuck in whatever world we had traveled to. It was dangerous, but we tried, Damian, really."

Damian wasn't quite satisfied with their answer, but he decided not to say anything else to them. He took a closer look at their haggard faces. They really did try. "It's okay," he said, finally slumping into the couch. "All that matters is you guys are here."

"So you're coming back with us?" Dick asked hopefully.

Damian didn't know how to answer. He had finally started thinking of this world as his home. He had been uprooted from his home several times, and he was determined to make last time his final. Damian looked at **Dick** , whose expression was heartbreaking. Damian didn't have to look behind him to feel **Tim's** emotions, which matched **Dick's** expression well enough. **Jason** probably looked indifferent, but Damian knew **Jason**. He cared deeply for anyone he was close to, but he rarely shows it.

"I don't know," he finally whispered. He looked at Dick. "I- I can't leave again. I don't _want_ to leave again. I just- I-" Damian's words got stuck in his throat and he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Dick leaned forward in alarm. "You don't have to stay! You can always come back. We won't force you to stay. It's just… for Bruce. He needs you."

Reassured, Damian swallowed and nodded. "Okay then. When can we leave?"

"Twenty-four hours from now," Tim said. "So we have a lot of time to waste, seeing that we are in no immediate, mortal danger?" He glanced warily at Damian's bodyguards.

Damian laughed weakly. "No, no. They're sweethearts. I guess you guys deserve a proper introduction." He cleared his throat. "Grayson, Todd, Drake, you've already met Dick. And that's Jason, obviously. He looks scary, but he's a disgustingly sweet person. And he has an addiction to Dick." Damian nodded at **Dick** , ignoring how Jason coughed and choked. **Jason** smacked him upside the head, and Damian laughed, cutting the tension in the room a bit more.

Then he gestured behind him. "This is Tim," he said, his smile softening. "King of hell, Robin to my Batman."

Tim's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry? That sounded like-"

"Yes, Timmy," Jason said loudly. "Looks like Jason over there isn't the only one who likes dick."

"Jason!"

Jason only smiled smugly as the other **Jason** cackled.

Damian, who was fighting a blush rather unsuccessfully, cleared his throat. "So, Grayson mentioned some rather interesting things he came across during his valiant search for me. Since we have so much time to kill, why don't we listen to some stories? I've got a lot of catching up to do."

Dick sat up, leaning forward, as if telling a story. "Ready, baby bat? This is going to be awesome!"

So they all gathered on the couches, demons and humans alike. **Dick** and **Jason** were curled up next to Damian and **Tim** , who weren't cuddling, but they were sitting far too close to it to be platonic. A tray of tea, coffee, and a beer for Jason, as well as a large box of cereal were brought to the coffee table and Dick began his stories.

"When Tim first developed the inter-dimensional teleportation device, a vote was held on who should be the guinea pig and test it out, and it was unfortunately decided that it would be me…"

LA FIN~


End file.
